


Touche

by Leenden



Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-14 22:01:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 39,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11217120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leenden/pseuds/Leenden
Summary: A young rat named Ayer, who lost his family and home to a fire, finds himself in the care of an older gentleman rat named Gaspar. It's a rough transition but the young rat starts to find himself a home with Gaspar and his former ward now associate Miss Gertrude. Ayer enjoys living the life of a rich aristocrat but things start to feel off about the rat he's grown to love and trust.





	1. And he Came Into our Lives

“Is he awake?” Miss Gertrude asked.

The young auburn rat was barely twenty-one years old now and has served De Laurente for six years, after he’d pulled her from a buggy that plunged off the bridge into the river. She’d survived, if only by chance, but her family wasn’t so lucky. With her being orphaned, Gaspar De Laurente took her under his wing as his ward and gave her a home.

In all that time, he’d spared no expense on her. Aside from the large sum of money he paid her each week; she had three square meals a day, a beautiful room with accompanying bathing room, and anything she could ever want. All she had to do in returned is take care of his day to day work as well as his food, laundry, and home when he was away. It was more or less a symbiotic relationship; neither of them could function without the other.

“Not yet.” The old black and white spotted rat, Gaspar, spoke through a raspy tone. The white on his face was covered with soot.

Gaspar was nearing his mid-fifties but with the exception of his cigarette smoking, he took remarkable care of himself. Not so much this evening though, he’d carelessly ran into a burning building to rescue any survivor he’d found. Unfortunately, there was only one, a young buck barely fourteen or fifteen years of age and barely alive at that.

“What did the doctor say?” Miss Gertrude wiped a warm cloth along Gaspar’s face, pulling the once white rag away, only to find it black.

“He’s breathing on his own. We must keep him elevated and monitor his breathing for the first few days. He didn’t expect anything to happen, just be cautious.”

Gaspar bent down over the copper wash basin and dunked his entire head in the water. He felt the soothing caress of Gertrude’s paws loosening the soot from behind his ears and the back of his head. When he came back up, he let the water drip down his long muzzle, keeping his green eyes closed as to not get the sweaty water in his eyes.

“I’ll take the first watch tonight, sir. You should soak in the tub for a bit.” She spoke.

Sir was a word he didn’t respond well too, but Gertrud rarely called him anything else, thus she was the only one allowed.

He looked at her out of the corner of his squinted eye. “Sounds good.”

“Will you be alright here?” Gertrude asked, setting a towel down so he could easily grab it.

“I believe so.” He was quick to throw a few more pawfuls of water in his face again, making a scrubbing motion along his muzzle. “Do tell me if his condition changes.”

“Certainly.” Gertrude started towards the door.

“And one more thing.”

“Sir,” Gertrude turned and looked at him.

“Take a bathing basin and soap with you. If you could clean him up and put a fresh pair of pajamas on him, I would be grateful.” Gaspar started untying the string close to the neck of his ruined shirt.

“As you wish, sir.” She gathered a bucket from the floor, a towel, a few wash clothes, and a small bar of soap before she left to tend to her duties. 

*** 

Miss Gertrude entered the guest bedroom as quietly as she had the last three times she’d wandered in. The lad was still lying on his back in the large four post bed, unmoved and unchanged. In a way, Miss Gertrude was content with this. The prospect of him waking up in a strange place after a traumatic experience would be terrifying for the lad. She took solace in the fact that as long as she could hear his soft raspy breathing, she knew he was alright.

The bucket of lukewarm water was heavy, she nearly stumbled leaning down to set it next to the bed. She dished out a few scoops into the wash basin on the nightstand. She gave a quick once over to make sure she had everything she needed before she started. Master’s pajamas, wash cloths, soap and oils, as well as a pair of pajamas, and prepared chamomile tea for herself, once the deed was done. Lastly, she set a book on the corner of the bed, something to do while she kept the lad company through the night.

Slowly, she undid the buttons of the lad’s torn and soot bathed pajamas shirt. The smell of smoking wood permeated his fur, masking his natural scent. It was a sensation that made Miss Gertrude uncomfortable. The same sensation happened when she couldn’t smell her Master’s natural scent because of the smoke. A rat was never a stranger as long as their natural scent could be smelled. This young buck was wholly a stranger to her. Though, she reminded herself, it wasn’t the boy’s fault.

Miss Gertrude opened the boy’s shirt and paused for a long moment. Beneath lay a thin a soft blonde fur that shimmered like gold in the firelight. It was unexpected because of the soot soaked fur on his face and paws.

The teenage buck was too thin to have been properly taken care of. Though, that was the way of all common rats nowadays. The rich ate fat and the poor did without. Suddenly, Miss Gertrude was reminded of her own growing paunch, as well as nights of candied roasted nuts that had inflicted it. A guilty pang settled in her stomach. She forced it away under the reassuring promise that these were thoughts for another time.

“I suppose I should introduce myself, monsieur.” Her accent sounded thicker when she whispered, almost as if someone else in the room was talking.

Slowly she lifted him from the bed and slipped the fabric from his narrow shoulders, grunting as she tugged it free from under his backside.

“My name is Gertrude Tres Avalone but everyone calls me Miss Gertrude.” She said as she laid him back on the bed as gently as she could. Luckily, he wasn’t as heavy as she expected. “I’ve lived in this house for near seven years now, I suppose our beginnings have almost the same ring to them.” Her hands fell to the band of his trousers. “I was orphaned on the road back home when mother and father quarreling. It led father to plunge the carriage over the edge of the bridge into the river. Whether he did so on purpose or not, I suppose I’ll never know.”

She hesitated before untying the string at the front of his pajamas. “If Monsieur De Laurente, or Gaspar as I’m sure he’ll tell you to call him, hadn’t come along when he did, my fate would have been the same as theirs.”

Miss Gertrude slowly shifted the band of his trousers down over his hips, making sure to be careful of his tail tucked through the hole in the back. It became increasingly easier once she gotten over his rounded rump. Then they were off and piled on the floor along with the shirt.

“Not so bad.” Miss Gertrude sighed, resisting the urge to rub her forehead for fear of smearing it with soot.

Now that the lad’s clothes were off, she finally found his scent. It was still soft amidst the smell of smoke and soot but it was there nonetheless. It soothed her to know that he had no smell of sickness or even ill intent, not that she’s be a good judge of either. One thing she was sure of, his scent didn’t smell off.

She drenched a washcloth in the water before wringing it out. She gave it a few swipes on the soap bar. Slowly, she cleaned the soot from his hind paws, making sure to get between his toes. It was a miracle that the soft rose scent was able to cut through the lingering smoky smell.

“There we go.”

While she cleaned him up, Miss Gertrude continued to talk about her time living in Gaspar’s home. How he always left his door open to her if she needed to talk. Even though she officially worked for him, he never treated her as a servant. Gaspar also offered her a great many opportunities to be educated in things that would better suit both of them in their day to day lives.

“Sorry if I’m boring you, my friend.” Miss Gertrude smiled, finishing wiping down his front paws. “Looks like I need to refresh the water.”

The amber rat took the wash basin from the nightstand and poured it out the window before giving it a quick rinse with the water from the bucket. Once the basin was full again, she returned to the head of the bed and started cleaning the lad’s face.

It was amazing how much a little soap and water cut a swipe through the soot along his muzzle. In no time flat, the fur on the young bucks face was nearly as blonde as the rest of him. She paid careful attention to his ears both inside and around. She also spent a good amount of time around his eyes, making sure to clean the gunk away that the smoke caused. She finished with his neck and his upper chest. By then the water was filthy again and in need of changing.

“Be right back, darling.” She said in a singsong voice as she carried off the basin once again.

Miss Gertrude returned with a fresh bowl and set it on the nightstand. She sat on the stool for a moment of contemplation. She wasn’t shy about giving him the once over.

A smile came to her lips. “You may be thin in the frame but I can see you’re a healthy buck in other places.” Her cheeks started heating up. “Though, I have very little point of reference, I’ll be honest. Still, you should take it as a compliment.”

It was true. Miss Gertrude’s only other point of references was the one or two times she and Gaspar fooled around on nights he’d come home drunk and more than a little bit desperate. The first time was a little frightening but he was gentle and caring even in his inebriated state. It also left her with a bit of a crush on him. He was, after all, a charming older buck that was very skilled in the bedroom matters. He showed great care in attending to her needs.

“Though, you can imagine the confusion the next morning.” Miss Gertrude fanned her hot cheeks.

“Now, if you’re uncomfortable with anything I do here; just say ‘stop’ and I will.” Miss Gertrude kept her voice low as if Gaspar might hear her through the house.

Gertrude lathered her paws with the soap before taking his warm length, giving it a slow thorough cleaning. She started at the light tangle of blonde pubic fur, moving all the way to the tip, making sure to pay special attention under and around the foreskin. She held him aloft with one paw while focusing on the rest of his private area. There was something pleasant about feeling his heartbeat through the veins that ran up the side of his length. It was a healthy heartbeat that resonated with hers; it caused a tingle deep inside that left her feeling rather vulgar considering the circumstances.

Once she was done with his pouch, she pushed back further making sure the rest of his private area and tail were thoroughly scrubbed before going back over them with a lukewarm washcloth to rinse away the suds.

“Healthy buck, indeed.” She remarked, surprised to see that the special cleaning had left him a bit more than a little excited. She be lying if she said wasn’t feeling the same way. After all, he was a very handsome and healthy young buck.

“Liked that did you?” She giggled; her face was threatening to ignite. “I have to admit, it’s not my finest work but at least you’re all clean now. I wish I could say the same for me.”

“All jests aside, perhaps I should get cleaned up and changed while you dry a bit.”

Gertrude washed her paws and did the final rinsing of the wash basin before returning it to the decadently carved dresser. She dried her paws off on another washcloth, tossing it and her apron on top of everything in the corner behind the door. She made a mental note to clean them up in the morning.

“Now, no peeking,” She teased the sleeping young rat as she undid the button on the white collar around her neck before easing each additional button down the front of her dress.

The fabric was light and airy, which was nice, but the monochromatic black and white colors made it look drab against her rich auburn fur. The chill from the open window assaulted her almost immediately when she removed her dress. Her nipples grew taut on the slight mounds of her breasts. She was extra careful not to touch the tender nubs as she hastily slipped on her flowery, silken sleeping gown. She slipped out of her white stockings, feeling the tingling sensation of her pressed leg fur starting to fluff out on her rounded hips.

“Such a gentleman, thank you for not peeking, sir,” The vivacious sound of her teasing was more because of the freedom from her work clothes than anything else.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

The young doe took another long look at the younger buck and smiled before giving his softening length another soft tug. It caused a tingle to run through her once again. She knew it was an urge that she wouldn’t be able to go through with for decency reasons but it didn’t stop her from lingering on the thought. She was a doe after all and she did have needs.

Miss Gertrude worked to slip on the oversized trousers that Gaspar was nice enough to donate to the boy. It was a struggle to get his tail through the hole in the back while juggling his wide hips but somehow she managed. She was careful to tie his pajama pants on tight enough so they wouldn’t fall down; though she didn’t think he was going to be up and moving around any time soon.

Again, she leaned the lad up against her with his head resting over her shoulder, so she could work his arms into the sleeves of the shirt before laying him out again. She did all but the top two buttons to keep him from choking in the night. The navy blue shirt seemed to swallow him almost completely but he looked comfortable nonetheless. She rolled up his sleeves and cinched them at mid forearm. Lastly, she pulled the covers up around his belly, leaving his arms free so if he woke up, he wouldn’t feel trapped.

Miss Gertrude took up her tea tray and book, moving around to the other side of the bed, so she could lie next to him. She poured herself a cup of tea and sweetened it with just a bit of honey before settling in beside him.

At first, she sipped her tea and read a few lines from her book but her attention often times found its way back to the lad lying next to her. He slept so peacefully and looked so sweet in his navy blue pajamas. It filled her with a very odd sensation that was quite unbecoming of her.

“I wonder…” She whispered, afraid that anyone would hear her insane ramblings “Something about lying her next to you just feels…right. I wonder if the master would frown on us getting married. I mean, assuming you like me that way and further assuming he lets you stay with us as he did me, I think he will. I know the three of us could be one big happy family.”

There was a silly tingle that spiked the fur on the back of her neck, making her giggle like school girl. “Wishful thoughts for an addled late night brain, I assure you.” She leaned close and gave his lips a gentle kiss.

Then, as if out of a fairytale, the lad inhaled deeply and his eyes lolled open. “Dead?” He murmured.

Miss Gertrude gasped and jolted back almost falling out of the bed. Her fear brought tears to her eyes as she struggled to talk. “N-no…no, you’re alive and I wasn’t just kissing you, uhm, why would I say that?” Her voice trembled.

“Alive, that’s good.” The lad’s eyes slipped closed again.

“Wait…wait, are you still with me. What is your name?” Miss Gertrude touched his chest, feeling the soft thump of his heart.

“Ayer…pleased to meet you.” His long moan drifted away and he punctuated it with a snuffled snore that died out by the second or third inhale.

“Ayer, what a beautiful name,” Miss Gertrude smiled and ran a shaky paw along his face. “I’m so glad you’re going to be alright.”

The young doe settled in next to him on top of the covers and rested her cheek to his shoulder. Ayer let out a soft moan and pressed his cheek to the top of her head. Another soft tingle worked its way through her from her toes to her ears. She draped an arm across his waist comfortably. She knew she should tell Gaspar about the change in his condition but fear of him waking up again kept her close. Waking up alone would be terribly frightening and she didn’t want to endure that feeling. In no time at all, sleep wormed its way into her mind and pulled her away from reality.

***

The door to the guest bedroom opened and a black and white spotted rat stepped into the room. He wore a maroon set of silken pajamas. In one hand, he carried a glass of warm brandy, in the other; he pulled the cigarette from his lips. Gaspar set the glass on the dresser on his way towards the window. He snuffed out his cigarette on the windowsill before tossing the butt away. Quietly, he closed the window and locked it, pulling the drapes closed.

“My sweet little Gertrude, you’ll catch your death of cold if you’re not careful.” He whispered and snuck around to her side of the bed.

He unfolded the duvet at the bottom of the bed overtop of the pair of sleeping rats. He gave her cheek a soft kiss before blowing out the oil lamp on her nightstand. When he made his way around to the other side of the bed, he paused to look at the young lad lying there.

“Such a handsome young buck,” He whispered and leaned close, kissing his cheek.

Sleepily, Miss Gertrude stirred in the bed. “Yes…” She whispered; she was out of sorts. “His name is Ayer.” Her voice was strained with sleep.

“And a lovely name too,” He snickered and touched her cheek. “Now sleep, you, I’ll need you bright eyed and bushy tailed come the morrow.”

She moaned an understanding tone before resting her head back in the crook of Ayer’s neck. Gaspar was quick to blow out the oil lamp on Ayer’s side of the bed. On his way out of the bedroom he stoked the fire before collecting his brandy and slipping out the door. He turned to look back at them sleeping in the warm light from the fireplace.

“Sleep well you two,” He whispered and closed the door.

The old rat made his way down the hall to his room. He was exhausted from the night’s events. He was already aware that there would be little sleep tonight, even with the help of the brandy. His past memories always waited at the edge of the lingering silence at night, whispering their grievances.

“My hope lies with you, Ayer.” Gaspar whispered as he fished his bankbook from the middle draw of his desk.

He opened the leather flap on the worn book and started writing the name, Geoffry Mathers, adding three hundred Francs in the blank amount slot for the payment note. He knew all too well that his old friend would be around to collect it in the morning. A necessary expenditure, he reminded himself before he put his signature on it and closed the book.

“A penny for a pound,” Gaspar smirked as he took another long sip from the brandy glass.


	2. And the Levee Will Fall

Ayer blue eyes fluttered open but he couldn’t find his focus on the darkness. It took a long moment for him to even realize he wasn’t in his bed. This wasn’t even his room anymore. Where was he then? Slowly he pulled the covers back, feeling the cramps roll through his body. It felt as if he’d carried a hundred sacks of flour up the stairs.

His nose was stuffy and dry. Whatever he could smell, the scent was awful. To top it off, he had to piss like he’d never had to before. When he flexed to hold it in, it only cramped in his groin worse. That was when he noticed the gray morning light coming through the gap in the curtains. It wasn’t a lot of light but it did give him something to focus on as he attempted to get out of the bed.

The feather down mattress gave no leverage; it made it nearly impossible to get out of bed. Ayer rolled to teeter on the edge before he fell to his paws and knees on the hard wood floor. The pain was dull but still hurt enough to water his eyes.

“Help…” He muttered his eyes stinging from his salty tears.

Helplessly, he felt around the floor for but couldn’t find anything that would help him or where he should go. Wiping his eyes with the silken sleeve of his pajama shirt did little to alleviate the stinging in his eyes. Even when he did manage to open them, he couldn’t see anything in the dark. Panic started to swell through him as a few dribbles of urine managed to escape, soon his cup would run over. It was an embarrassing prospect for a young buck to piss himself in a strange place.

“Please…help!” He cried out, his throat was scratchy and it hurt to yell but he did manage to get his words out.

The thundering of feet drew closer and he heard a door open close to him. “Oh my god!”

A doe’s voice pricked his ears. The scent of lavender suds couldn’t hide the natural scent of a young doe; he wouldn’t have known that she was a female even before she spoke.

The female rat was on him, one arms wrapped across his chest, the other across his back and she managed to pull him to his feet with little effort. Her fur was soaking wet and soon, so was he.

“Are you alright, Ayer?” She whispered warm breath on his ear.

“I have to pee, so bad.”

“Oh, I…I got-got you.”

He could hear something sliding across the floor to right in front of him. His spine tingled when he felt the string of his trousers loosen. He fought to keep them from falling down.

“It’s alright, trust me.” The doe whispered.

She helped ease him out of his pajama pants. The feeling of her warm wet paw against his tender flesh caused a bubbling sensation deep inside. He suddenly didn’t have to pee any longer; something else was going on down below now.

“You can go; I’ll do my best to aim for the bucket. If I miss, I’ll just clean it up later.” The encouraging tone in her voice only made it harder for him to concentrate.

“I-I can’t.”

“If it makes you feel any more comfortable. I’ve been taking care of you every day since you got here.” She tried to keep her voice soothing.

“You mean…”

“Yes.”

“That does help a little,”

“Now just concentrate and think of dripping water.” Her breath ruffled his cheek fur, cooling the warmth of his blushing cheeks.

The doe kept a light hold on him for a few long moments, while Ayer did as the doe suggested. At first, it only worked to remind him of how parched he was but then he felt the first pang in his groin again. Finally, he relaxed enough to start urinating. A soft flinch and he sucked in a hiss through his teeth.

“I’m sure it hurts, you’ve not had anything to drink for four days. Don’t worry though; I’ll fix that as soon as you’re done here.”

Ayer nodded and leaned against her as he focused on relieving himself rather than the sting of actually doing it. When the last few dribbles of pee dripped out, she gave him a few shaky jerks, honestly not as many as he would have liked but enough to get rid of any excess. She was quick to pull up his trousers and tie them off before helping him settle onto the edge of the bed.

There was a burst of light from somewhere in the room behind him and he was suddenly glad that his eyes had been shut tight.

“Let me have a look at you.” The doe asked. It was at that point he attempted to open his eyes again.

They were red from the overly salty tears and now he knew why they burned so badly. He must have been dehydrated, which would also explain why he was so weak and out of it.

It was her beautiful auburn color that he saw first, than it was her beautiful large eyes. She wore a smile that warmed his heart. It didn’t take him long to realize that it almost all she wore. If it wasn’t for the towel pinched under her arms, she wouldn’t be wearing anything at all. No matter how hard he tried to keep his gaze on her face, they were sent to wander her figure.

“Well, you seem alright now.” She giggled, bringing his gaze back to hers.

“I’m sorry…”

“You can call me Miss Gertrude.” She never lost her smile. “And I don’t mind one bit, I’m just glad you’re awake.”

“And I’m – wait, you already know who I am. I heard you say my name earlier.” Ayer looked up at her with confusion.

“You talk in your sleep.” She giggled. “You also suffer from roaming paws, just thought I would let you know.”

“I…”

“It’s okay, I know it was unintentional.” Miss Gertrude helped him to his feet. “Come on, I was just in the bath. I’m willing to give it to you.”

Ayer was too weak to argue, so he went along with her. It took a second to get their hind paws in sync but by the time they made it to the bathroom, they were fairly comfortable with moving at the same pace. The bathroom was small, there was barely enough room for the tub, the chamber pot, and a hand washing basin atop a squat linin shelf. The room was decorated with a soft yellow tone and smelled sweet of lavender oil in the tub.

“This is my own private bathroom. My master, Gaspar, has been generous with me.” Miss Gertrude admitted.

“Gaspar?”

“Oh, right, let’s get you into the tub for a soak and I’ll explain it to you.” Miss Gertrude leaned in and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

 “I…I think I can manage.” His cheeks flushed red under his blonde fur.

“I assure you, you have nothing to hide that I haven’t already seen. Don’t you remember the part when I told you that I’ve been taking care of you? That includes baths and changes of clothes.”

Miss Gertrude slowly pushed the shirt from his shoulders, tracing it all the way down until it fell from his arms. He teetered on his hind paws, leaning into her to keep from falling over. Her face pressed into the warmth of his neck. He wrapped an arm around her to help keep him steady. Being this close to him, she could hear his heart racing. There was an overwhelming rush of emotion coursing through her; it tightened as a lump in her throat. For days she’d been taking care of him and he showed very little signs of recovery. To have him with her, standing and talking was an amazing sensation that she’d not prepared herself for.

“Are you alright,” Ayer asked. His face was fully aflame with a blush.

“Yeah,” Miss Gertrude felt suddenly aware of herself. “It’s just…”

Was she alright? It was a strange question to wonder about while she was midway through undressing this young buck. This was the first conversation she’d carried out with Ayer since they’d ‘met’. In some way, she’d created this façade of how Ayer would act and speak when he woke. What if he turned out to be something worse, something different than she’d imagined? It was a selfish prospect that she didn’t like about herself. When she asked herself again, was she alright? The answer was ‘no’.

“It’s hard to explain.” Miss Gertrude leaned away, making sure to keep a hand on him so he didn’t fall.

Before Ayer could say anything, Miss Gertrude got to work on his trousers. The string pulled away easy enough and she let gravity do the rest. Both Ayer and Miss Gertrude looked in different directions. Now that he was aware of what she was doing, the auburn mouse shared in his blush. Why would things have to change so much?

“Hold onto me and I’ll help you into the tub.” Her voice cracked a bit, her nerves were starting to get the better of her.

With a little effort, Miss Gertrude helped him settle into the tub. “There you go, I hope the water’s warm enough. It seemed like it took forever to get you in there.”

“The waters fine, thank you.” He said, leaning back against the edge of the tub with a relaxed sigh.

“I have a bit of herbal tea in the pot over there as well as some biscuits, would you care for some?”

Without waiting for a response, Miss Gertrude rounded the tub and poured him a cup of the pink liquid. She shaved a gray sugar crystal into the mug before stirring it. When she passed it to him, he took it with a shaky hand.

“It should still be warm, so be careful.” The auburn doe plucked a small pale cookie from the plate and passed it to him. “I baked these myself, they have honey in them. I have a terrible sweet tooth, I’m afraid.”

“I really appreciate you taking care of me.”

While Ayer nibbled his biscuit and drank his tea, Miss Gertrude started getting dressed. Sunday was the one day of the week she didn’t have to wear her uniform. The fancy hose, Gaspar spent a small fortune for her to wear, went on first. She slipped them on under the towel that she still wore.

“Ayer, would you help me?”

Miss Gertrude turned her back to him and hiked up the hem of the towel, so he could see her backside. Her tail missed the hole in the seam at the back and was wedged into the stockings. Ayer set the cup down on the edge of the tub and helped angle the tip through the whole before slowly pulling it through. He could see Miss Gertrude bristle at the feeling of his paws.

“Are my seams straight?” She looked back at him, taking pleasure at the blush on his face.

“Yes…” His throat felt suddenly sticky.

“Thank you.” She smiled and returned to getting dressed, glad that he was thoroughly entertained.

She let the towel slip to pool on the wooden floor behind her. Knowing that the young buck’s eyes were on her, urged her to tease while still playing aloof. The same tingle she’d felt over the last few days with him returned once again, this time so much stronger. There was something special about him, she thought; why not give him something to watch while he finishing his refreshments?

Miss Gertrude slipped on a lavender long sleeved blouse, the hem resting lightly along her hip line with the back flap resting over her hind end. The sleeves were fashioned to be pulled tight and then wrapped several times around her forearm and cinched off, making the fabric at her shoulders and biceps plume out. The collar has several clasps to pull it tight around her throat.

Lastly, she pulled on her favorite dark blue skirt, cinching it up around her waist. The soft fabric hung down to just above her hind paws. It was lightweight and breathed, perfect for the warmer months. In the winter, she’d pad the dress out with a petticoat to keep her warm.

When she was finished dressing she turned to see Ayer, staring at her wide eyes with the empty cup resting on the side of the tub.

“Are you alright?’

“Yeah, just never seen a doe get dressed before, I mean beside my sister.”

“It’s not as alluring as it seems, am I right?” Miss Gertrude teased and took the cup from him to pour him another.

“No, it was quite alluring.”

It was then that she noticed the strategically placed wash cloth through the water. He was after all, innocent and ignorant to the more intimate things in life. It was a one of the many things she secretly hoped he would be. The gesture made her smile as she passed the cup to him and he took it with a gracious nod.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Ayer asked, taking a sip. “Where is this place and who is this Gaspar, you mentioned.”

“I was going to let the master tell you but he’s indisposed with matters of business.” Miss Gertrude lingered on the thought. “Do you not remember anything that happened?”

“I can but I’m struggling to separate the truth from the dreams that have been haunting my sleep.”

“I wasn’t there but I did ask my master about it.” Miss Gertrude knelt next to the tub so he wouldn’t have to crane his neck to look at her. “There was a fire at the pub where you lived.”

Ayer tensed his grip of the cup of tea, his trembling worsened. “And…”

“Luckily, my master was in town on business. He rushed in to see what he could do but the fire was too far out of control. He found you on the floor in the hallway and managed to pull you to safety but when he went to go back inside, the roof collapsed. After that he took you to the doctor and then brought you here.”

Miss Gertrude felt the lump return to her throat. Each word she spoke was a small pinprick into the young buck’s heart and seeing the tears welling in his eyes, made her feel as though she was to blame for them.

“My family…”

“Like mine, they’re gone, I’m afraid.”

The glass slipped from his paw into the tub as he cupped his face. The sounds of his sobs spiked in the quiet of the room. Miss Gertrude wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed a kiss against the side of his head.

After taking care of him these few days, it was hard for her to accept that she was powerless to help him now. The young buck never seemed younger, or more helpless than he did now. Miss Gertrude wanted to pull him back into the nest and coddle him until he felt better but there was nothing she could do for him except let him cry.

“Do you…do you think they suffered?” His sobs choked against his paws.

“Don’t do this, Ayer.” Miss Gertrude kissed his cheek. “These are questions no one could answer and only you could agonize over.”

“I-”

“Just let me hold you.” Miss Gertrude pulled his face to her bosom, one hand caressing the fur on his cheek, the other gripping his shoulder. 

*** 

It took some time but Ayer did eventually stop crying, though he was far from alright. Miss Gertrude kept him company; filling his head with all the useless information about house they lived it. She told him that the house belong to a well to do banker that lived just outside of Paris. It was within scurry distance of the city, which was a prime location for her master’s work.

She took this opportunity to tell Ayer about Gaspar De Laurente, her master and the one who helped build his home in the floorboards of the banker’s house. There was so much to tell him and Miss Gertrude got lost in her ramblings and before she could stop, she told him about her parents and what had happened and how she became Gaspar’s ward only to later become his housekeeper and friend.

“…I truly hope he takes you on as his new ward. It would really brighten this old house up. I know I won’t be so lonely anymore.”

“When will I meet him,” Ayer sat at the edge of the bed while Miss Gertrude cinched his trousers around his knees. “I’d like to thank him for rescuing me.”

“I’d imagine soon. If he’s not home for lunch, he will be home for afternoon tea.” The auburn doe took his paw and pulled him up. “Care to help me prepare some tea and snacks for the master?”

They both paused when they heard a door close somewhere else in the house. It was followed by the sound of two rats talking.

“De Laurente, I appreciate your patience in this matter but I have to ask for an advance. You know my mother is ailing and the doctor will be visiting us as soon as this afternoon and he will not be happy if we don’t have the money to pay him.” The large British voice was more sharp than it walks welcoming.

“What happened to the money I just gave you?” A softer accented voice followed up. The French flair behind his words sounded elegant and rich.

“I had to pay the housekeeper to take care of mother while I’m off doing god know what for…”

The pair of rats stopped in front of the guest room door and poked their heads inside. Two sets of eyes, one green and the other gray, fell upon the lad that was standing behind Miss Gertrude. The black and white spotted rat with green eyes slid into the room passed the much larger rat. His eyes were wide as he clasped his paws in front of him and smiled graciously. His mouth parted and hung in such a way that told of his surprise and delight.

“You’re awake,” The large smoky gray rat spoke; he was the owner of the British accent they’d heard.

 “Geoffry, don’t be rude.” The black and white rat cocked an eyebrow at the taller rat. “We will conclude this discussion later.”

“What of the doctor then?”

“Fine, if the doctor must have his money today then send him to me. With his opium habit, he’ll be too hard up to refuse the invitation, now go.” The black and white rat ushered the other one away with a sweep of his paws.

The large gray rat, Geoffry, cleared his throat and gave a pert nod to the black and white rat first before offering one to the others in the room. He turned and walked back the way he came.

“Miss Gertrude, will you show Mr. Mathers the way out, please.” The black and white rat asked politely folding his hands before him.

There was a hesitation in the auburn doe’s steps as she looked from Ayer to the black and white rat. Ayer gave her a nod and a smile, letting her know that he was alright now. She smiled back and rushed passed the black and white rat into the hall to assist Geoffry Mathers on his way.

“My boy,” The black and white rat spoke fondly, a nervous smile came to his lips. “I am so glad you’re alright. I was starting to fear the worse.”

“I will admit, I’m far from alright but I’m alive at least.” The boy’s earnest remark gave the older rat pause.

“I apologize, I misspoke,”

“No, I’m sorry. It’s been a rough day so far.”

“Of that, I have no doubt.” The black and white rat rested a paw on his shoulder. “It’s going to be hard making the adjustment. Losing a family is not something that’s easily dealt with. I’ve lost my share of family and friends. I still grieve for them all but it will get better with time. I know that means nothing now but it does. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Ah, that’s one of my…pet peeves, my lad. I don’t like to be called ‘sir’.”

“I’m sorry-”

The rat started to laugh and shook his head. “Don’t be, there’s no way you could have known that, we just met.”

“What should I call you then?” Ayer smirked in spite of his sheepish feelings.

“Gaspar, just Gaspar will do.” He said politely and kissed the back of the younger buck’s paw. “And what shall I call you?”

“Ayer Guvall, or just Ayer, or lad, or whatever you want call me is fine.”

Gaspar started to laugh. “How about I use a combination of all of them then?”

The older rat’s laugh was so infection that even Ayer got caught up in it for a moment. When it subsided, the younger buck’s face grew serious and the older rat knew the time for jokes had passed.

“I want to thank you for what you did and what you attempted to do.” Ayer gripped Gaspar’s paw that still rested on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“I only wish I could have done more, my boy.”

“You really did all you could.” Miss Gertrude’s sweet voice drew both of their gazes.

Gaspar smiled and wiped his eyes. “The older I get, the easier I’m drawn to tears. How unbecoming,” He cleared his throat as if fighting to keep his composure. “Miss Gertrude may we have some of those lovely peanut bars and tea for me and my young ward here?”

“Are you serious?” Miss Gertrude gasped; her overexcitement took Gaspar by surprise.

“I mean, that was always the plan but only if he chooses too.” The older buck looked at him. “It’s up to you, if not; I will gladly make arrangements to get you to where you need to go.”

“I don’t have any family elsewhere and if you’re willing, I’d like to stay here.” Ayer looked from Miss Gertrude back to Gaspar.

“As we, Miss Gertrude and I, are a misbegotten pair,” Gaspar gave a large smile and took the lad’s paw in his. “We sincerely welcome you to our family, Ayer.”


	3. An Officer and a Gentleman

The shop smelled sharp of polished wood with robust overtone of shoe polish. Fancy garbs of all kind hung around the outside wall. Tables were covered with bolts of fabric, needles, and thread. Mannequins grouped around the room near the tables. Each of them wore a half sewn outfits waiting to be finished. A large polished piece of metal hung on the back wall. The water-like surface gave a distorted reflection of the room but when Gaspar stepped closer, it reflected him and his finally tailored suit perfectly.

“Don’t move monsieur.”

The small white mouse uttered as he ran his paws along the length of Ayer’s inner thigh, tucking the back of his pay against the lad’s testicles. Ayer blushed and cleared his throat embarrassed by the contact. It didn’t help that Miss Gertrude and Gaspar has already chuckled, giggled, and taken in their fair share of glances at the young buck’s expense.

“You blush so hard, Monsieur Ayer, your butt glows like a pomegranate.” The mouse smirked, as he looked up at him from over the rims of his spectacles.

“Sir,” Ayer’s protested softly.

“Well, may I suggest, next time you wear some underwear if you don’t wish such glares from the gallery goers.”

“More like guests to the ball.” Gaspar quipped as he pulled a freshly rolled cigarette from his pouch.

Miss Gertrude bent down and buried her face in the crook of her arms, her shoulders twitched with laughter. Even Ayer chuckled at the jest. That was something Ayer had grown accustom too over the last month, In addition to Gaspar being a charming gentleman, he was also genuinely amusing.

There was so much to learn about the older buck. One of the more interesting things Ayer discovered was Gaspar was once a Lieutenant in the Rat’s French Chevalier or as he referred to them as the RFC. He and some of his closest friends fought against cats in the Le Revolution du Chat when he was slightly older than Ayer.

“How long have I been visiting your establishment, Monsieur Trebon?” Gaspar tucked the cigarette in his mouth and snapped a match on the underside of one of the tables.

The mouse snatched the cigarette from his lips the next instant. “Long enough for you to know better than to smoke in here, De Laurente, it’s not good for the fabric.”

“Then, tell me honestly, our dear friend here, what color best suits his blonde complexion.” Gaspar looked at Miss Gertrude, who was still staring at the young buck with stars in her eyes.

“Blonde is the second easiest color to match, next to white of course. I recommend any color that delivers a punch! Perhaps maroon with silver accents, or even gold accents.” Trebon went back to taking measurements.

“Nothing so fancy, really, just some tunics and trousers,” Ayer felt as though he were having an anxiety attack the more they spoke.

“Nonsense, two dress uniforms at least.” Trebon and Gaspar said at the same time.

“Three pajama sets, five tunics, three trousers, and a slew of undergarments.” Trebon finished the thought.

“That’s too much,”

“Not to worry, lad, Trebon always gives me a discount.” Gaspar chuckled.

“That I do, thanks to him my business is the busiest in all of Paris. Rodents come from miles around for my fittings.” Trebon smiled as he laid a sheet of fabric across the young buck’s hip, places one long pin up the side of it. “Careful boy, it’s sharp.”

“Plum…”

Miss Gertrude leaned on the table with her chin in her paws. Her voice was so soft that Gaspar thought he was hearing things.

“What was that my dear?”

“Plum and pearl,” She said again, looking over the fabric bolts lay out on the table next to her. “His blonde fur would look so amazing in them.”

“Magnifique!” Trebon looked at the boy and then at the bolt in question. “You have quite the eye, Miss Gertrude.”

“What can I say, playing dress up is just one of my things.” She smirked at him.

Trebon was quick to scribble stuff on a piece of parchment before passing the note to Gaspar, who gave it a quick read over. The soft sound of his voice mumbling was punctuated by the tapping of a finger on the page.

“This looks good. Miss Gertrude, do you concur?”

The auburn rat walked over and took the note, giving it a quick read.

“What does it say?” Ayer asked nervously.

“It’s merely a – no, no, we should have the green tunic with the dark brown pants. It would be a great outdoors outfit.” She pointed at the paper.

“But what of the black on black?” Gaspar questioned.

“That’s good for working in the house, I would think.”

“Let’s not overlook the new bolt of steel blue fabric I got in from Russia. It was quite pricy but would look good on him nonetheless.” Trebon laid a thin sheet of parchment across the lad’s back.

“How about we put a steel blue tunic with the loose black pants?” Gaspar mused.

“Ooh, plume the biceps…so commanding. I like that.” Miss Gertrude agreed.

“Is this my clothing list, please don’t go to any trouble.” Ayer was starting to sweat.

“Too late,” Gaspar was quick to snatch his purse from his belt, tossing it to the floor next to Trebon who was quick to sweep it up. “I already paid for them and the return policy is a no go, I’m afraid.”

“That’s true.” Trebon looked in the pouch. “This is a bit heavy, De Laurente.”

“Ajoutez les differences comme vous le souhaitez, mon ami.” Gaspar Smirked

“Who am I to argue, could I bother you two to look at the diagrams I have on the counter and select the cuts you’d like for each of the outfits listed?” Trebon went back to pinning a piece of fabric around the lad’s shoulders.

The pair crossed the room together and collaborating the perfect cuts to accentuate the boy’s figure. Something that breathed and grew with him was Gaspar’s suggestions, while Miss Gertrude focused more on the dress outfits and the work outfits. Ayer opened his mouth to make a suggestion but paused as he realized it wouldn’t make any difference. It was then that they turned and looked at him.

“What about pajamas? And how would you like your Sunday lounge outfit to look?” Gaspar asked.

“They only have two cuts of underwear and I’m assuming you don’t want stockings.” Miss Gertrude followed him up.

“Um, loose fitting pajamas please, something that doesn’t cling when I sleep.” Ayer kept his voice soft. “I’ve not really worn underwear before, so I don’t know what style I would like, so you can choose. No stockings, they’re far too expensive and I don’t think I’d like wearing them anyway. ”

Miss Gertrude was quick to jot down a few things on the sheet of paper. “That leaves just your Sunday outfit?”

“Something lightweight and comfortable but not floppy, I don’t know, I’m not good with this sort of thing. All of my clothes used to belong to my father before they got passed down to me.” Ayer grunted as he felt a pin scrape up his side.

“You must stop moving.” Trebon grunted and went back to work.

“There’s something…moving about that.” Gaspar touched a paw to his chest.

“We barely had money to pay debtors, so clothing wasn’t a priority.”

“That was then; this is now, my boy. If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. That’s why I’m here.” Gaspar gave a pert bow.

“Well there is one thing,”

“Anything,” Gaspar was quite forceful in the matter.

“Books, I’d much like to have some books.” Ayer rubbed his cheek gently. “I had two my father bought home for me and I’d read them so many times through. I know they’re expensive but I’d like to have them again.”

Miss Gertrude’s back stiffened. “I must have forgotten to mention master’s library to you.”

“No you didn’t.” Ayer spread his legs again doing his best to ignore the mouse’s roaming paws. “I just didn’t think I was allowed in there. Books are very expensive.”

“My boy, everything in my house is yours. If you ruin one of my books, ten lashes, it’s a simple transaction.”

Miss Gertrude gave the older rat a gentle punch on the shoulder. “Don’t tell him that!”

“I jest; I know you’ll take very special care of them, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Gaspar snickered and rubbed his shoulder. “You’re far too strong to be doing that, Miss Gertrude!”

“Says the officer who took a shot in the gut and kept marching,” Miss Gertrude’s eyes narrowed as she offered him a sideways glance.

“Very well, you’re done for now, Ayer.” Trebon got up on his hind paws and slowly lifted the strange fabric and parchment pull over, he pieced together. “You may need to come back later for the final fitting to see if there are any adjustments that need to be made. It should be fine though.”

“One final thing, Monsieur Trebon, do you have an outfit our boy can wear home, something that fits him better than my old clothes.” Gaspar leaned against the closest table and crosses his arms.

Trebon thumbed his chin for a moment and looked around at the clothes hanging along the back walls. He mumbled something under his breath and walked towards the wall nearest to the mirror. After a moment of rifling through the tunics there, he came back with a crisp moss green shirt with short sleeves and a pair of soft grey trousers.

“This was from last year; a young buck ordered them to impress a young doe he was courting but he outgrew them before he had a chance to pay for them.” Trebon held up the tunic to Ayer. “It may be a little snug but it should be fine in the time it takes me to finish some of your outfits.”

“I trust they will be a priority?” Gaspar asked.

“As always,” Trebon snickered. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The older mouse finished stripping the outfit patterns from the young buck and Ayer wasted no time getting dressed. The tunic fit tightly across the shoulders but it wasn’t the worst he’d ever worn, while the trousers on the other hand fit loosely in the crotch but was still more comfortable than swimming in Gaspar’s clothing all the time.

“Not bad, give me one second.”

The small mouse had Ayer hold his arms up while he loosened a few folds of the fabric at his armpits. Trebon was quick to stitch it back together to give the boy a little bit more room to move.

“There, it’s not perfect but they look as though they were made for you.” Trebon gave the lad a look over. “When you bring these back, I’ll make more proper adjustments and you can just have them.”

“Really?”

“Yes, my treat. Besides, no one would be willing to pay the cost of the outfit and then pay to have it refitted. Good riddance if you ask me. With as long as they’ve been hanging back there, they’ve not earned me a single Franc.”

Ayer took the mouse’s paw and gave him a firm shake. “Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing.”

“How long do you think it will take, Trebon?” Gaspar addressed the older mouse when he turned to take the instructional note back from Miss Gertrude.

“A month, maybe two, I’ll send a messenger as the outfits become available.”

“Excellent, send them with the promise to pay when they arrive and I’ll take care of the cost of the messenger for you.” Gaspar insisted.

“That’s fair; I won’t twist your arm if you want to pay.” He smirked.

“Again, I am at the mercy of your kindness.” Gaspar chided him playfully, but the affectionate look on his face revealed his true feelings on the matter.

“If you’re going to do that thing where you gush about me being the father you never had, I’ll slug your other shoulder.” Trebon took Gaspar’s arm and walked them to the door. “Remember that I’m only a few years older than you.”

“And mayhap the wiser of the both of us,” There was warmth in the words that he punctuated with a gentle hug. “Thanks again my friend, it’s always a pleasure.”

“No need, really, there were dark days and darker times before you pulled me from them. Take care on your way.” Trebon turned to regard Miss Gertrude. “It’s a pleasure to see you as well, my dear.”

Ayer was the last one out of the building, he was surprised to see the older mouse take his paw and pat the back of it affectionately. “As for you, take good care of Monsieur De Laurente, great god above knows he needs it.”

“I will do my best but I’m no miracle worker.” The two shared a laugh before the mouse went back inside his shop.

The three of them sauntered along the street, keeping to the edges of the buildings. It was safer that way as the streets where hustling with human traffic. Luckily it was far too busy for anyone to pay any mind to the three rats moving on their way. They managed to skirt the hustle and bustle before ending up on the outer line of buildings at the edge of the city. Before too long, they made for the bridge and just beyond that was a peaceful walk home.

***

Later that day, after midday tea, things quieted down. Miss Gertrude enjoyed a nap in her room while Ayer finished the last of his tea and Gaspar enjoyed a cigarette and a nip of Absinthe from his favorite crystal glass. He took a long drag from his cigarette and blew out a beautifully formed ring through the air, in Ayer’s direction.

“La Fee Verte me chante une chanson de pays lointains ou l’acier est la loi et l’amour est la monnaie du monde.”

As the old rat spoke his words rolled out thoughtful and lovely. He could heart Ayer’s contemplative sigh, which brought their eyes to meet.

“The green fairy?” Ayer asked as he got up from his seat to kneel next to the older rat.

“It was something me and my mates used to talk about while the trenches at night.” He looked down at the green liquid remnants in his glass. “Never mind the old musings of a rat who is as drunk as he is weary.”

Ayer noticed there was only a slight slur in his speech, not nearly enough for him to believe the rat was out of sorts, at least not yet.

“It sounds lovely.” Ayer smiled. “Tell me more?”

“Tell you, I’ll show you.” Gaspar finished his cigarette before putting it out in the decorative clay ashtray on the table next to him before struggling to get to his feet.

Ayer was polite enough to help him to his feet. Gaspar acknowledged him with a smile before they started off through the halls arm in arm. The young buck waited for his master to say something but they just walked, the soft patting of their hid paws was the only noise accompanying them. It wasn’t until they passed his room and rounded the corner to a small alcove that Ayer realized where he was being led. The ornamental iron gate in front of him opened into the library. Miss Gertrude had mentioned the library in passing not know about the boy’s passionate love of reading. He’d not seen it until now.

Inside the room, Ayer was surprised to see hundreds of books, some with parchment bindings, and others in leather. Some were worn well and others were brand new. Some were even written in languages that Ayer didn’t know how to read. The smell of the pages watered his mouth as much as any feast he’d had since he came to live in the care of the black and white rat. Seven oak shelves in total, six of them stacked tight with books, more than he felt he could read in his lifetime.

“Everything that is mine, is yours now, lad.” He caressed the back of Ayer’s neck lovingly.

“I don’t know where to start.” Ayer ran his paws along the bindings as if they were the most treasured thing he’d ever had.

“Then let us start with one of my favorites.” Gaspar smirked and reached passed him to the shelf just above. “Les contes de Saint George et le Dragon.”

“What’s it about?”

“You’ll see, come along.” Gaspar took the lad’s paw and led him to the room that was once the guest room but now belonged to Ayer’s.

Gaspar slipped out of his fancy tunic so he wore a simple undershirt before climbing across the bed to relax with the book resting on his belly. Ayer was quick to slip out of his shirt before coming to join the older rat amidst the comfort of the duvet.

Gaspar began reading the book aloud in a fine bravado that lured Ayer in close. A fanciful story of a crusader, brave and true, tasked with the quest of besting a dragon and through their physical differences they found they were not so different after all.

Before too long, Ayer had his head resting on the old rat’s chest, listing to the vibrations of his words as he read. Gaspar held him close with one arm struggling to turn the pages without disturbing the lad, he managed somehow. Sleep pulled him away into the green pastures of his dreams. A playful dragon bounded through the grass, giving chase to the blonde rat, while a stoic soldier stood silhouetted by the blue sky, watching over them as they played.

Gaspar closed the book and set it aside as he pressed his lips to the side of the boy’s head. He breathed Ayer scent in deep as if he just smelled a flower and held it into him for as long as he could.

 “Oh Ayer, you’ve such a familiar and beautiful smell.” Gaspar whispered before he added another tender peck to the side of the boy’s head.


	4. A Glancing Blow

The whistling sound from the foil as it tore through the air caused the fur on Ayer’s ears to prickle. It sounded closer than he was comfortable with. He flinched behind his book every time Gaspar swung. A soft pat of the ball at the end of the foil hitting the stuffed dummy always followed.

More than a few times, Ayer caught himself mesmerized by the old rat’s grace and form. The way he moved on his hind paws was trained to perfection. The way his muscles rippled beneath the salt and peppered black spotted fur showed that he was still toned for his age. Thanks to the mid-morning sunlight filtering through the open window, it caused his pink scars to shine through his fur. He arched his back for a high sash, showing off his ribs beneath the thin fur of his torso. Ayer hoped he would look half as good as the old rat.

“I feel your eyes upon me, lad.” He said. His accent sounded thicker beneath his heavy breathing.

“It’s curiosity, sir.”

“Curiosity, am I to be studied then?” Gaspar lunged and stabbed the dummy in the face. “What is it, my dashing good looks? My body that even bucks half my age couldn’t possess.”

“Or maybe I’m thinking of how full of yourself, you are, sir.” Ayer chuckled.

“Gaspar, lad, you’ve been with me nigh on two months now. You’re not a guest.” He laughed as he struck another blow, square on the red X on the dummy’s chest.

“My apologies, Gaspar, I’m still shy is all.”

“My name never sounded so pretty than when you say it.” The off handed comment earned him the blush he wanted.

“Flirting, or goading me into a match?”

“You’d fancy a match?” The old rat paused. “Have you ever fenced before?”

“No.”

“Huh? Your father never taught you how to fence?” Gaspar untied the handkerchief that he wore around his wrist and wiped his face.

“No, he said it brought up some bad memories.” Ayer suddenly felt very away of Gaspar’s gaze.

“Bad memories,” Gaspar sighed. “That’s one of the reasons I still train so hard. So I can defeat the memories that haunt me.”

“May I ask about them?”

“I’ll tell you what,” Gaspar walked over to the fencing foil rack and took another one down giving it a quick look down the blade before motioning to Ayer. “Fence with me and every successful strike you make on me, I’ll tell you of one of my scars.”

Before Ayer could answer, Gaspar tossed the rapier to him. The young buck caught it clumsily by the blade, thankfully it wasn’t sharp.

“Now, for every successful strike I make on you, you have to tell me something about yourself.” The older rat joined him in the center of the room.

“That seems unfair.” Ayer smiled, the gleam in his eyes told that he wasn’t deterred from the challenge.

“Well, allow me to make it a bit easier for you.” Gaspar tied the handkerchief over his eyes. “There, I can only see your shadow and hear your paw steps.”

“Now this seems too unfair the other way.”

“I’m willing to take the chance to get to know more about you and your family.” Gaspar laughed. “Now, no more excuses. Get out here and show me what you’ve got.”

When Gaspar was ready, he did a few test slashes before posing a saluting fashion. “I’m ready.”

“One moment then.” Ayer chuckled and slipped his shirt off; folding it neatly before setting it on the chair he’d been lounging in.

When he turned around, he noticed Gaspar peeking out from under the blindfold with a s smile.

“I had a body that looked just like that when I was your age.”

Ayer blushed. “You still do.”

“Flattery will not get you out of this duel, my friend.” He laughed, replacing his blindfold.

It was then that his demeanor grew serious. Ayer watched him control his breathing, his ears twitching with every subtle move the younger buck made. Ayer was genuinely afraid of whatever the old rat was hearing.

“Outside slash,” He announced swinging his blade. The small ball tapped the bucks arm painfully.

“Ow, what was that?” Ayer jolted almost dropping his sword.

“I was simply giving you a heads up.” Gaspar smirked. “That’s one tale you owe me.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that.”

“Low left-paw lunge.”

Ayer shifted, adding a solid strike to Gaspar’s shoulder. The older rat chuckled and pushed his own attack, a slash to the outside of the young buck’s leg. Ayer was too slow to block and even slower to attack. Gaspar parried the shot easily and added another poke to the opening the buck left open at his ribs.

“What is that, four to one now?” Gaspar danced sideways. “Keep an eye on my body, not my blade. My body will tell you which side I will attack. My hand will show you where about on your body I will strike. Watch my leg for what type of attack I’m following through with.”

“What?”

Ayer’s question went unanswered but Gaspar’s words echoed in his head. The rat’s foot slid forward. His left shoulder twisted and the paw holding the weapon rotated out. A lunge, Ayer used his blade to bank the attack away harmlessly. He could see by the warm smile on Gaspar’s face that he’d done well.

“That’s my boy.” He uttered and went in for another attack, a slash this time.

The young buck corrected himself but still managed to be slapped on the hip. Gaspar didn’t let up either. There was a few more attack that led to more successes than Ayer wanted to admit but in the end he managed a few good hits himself.

Gaspar had long since taken off the blind fold, once he realized that he’d give the lad too much of an edge. It still didn’t help. Ayer had a raw natural talent that reminded him of him at that age.

“You’re good; I’m surprised you picked up on it so easily.” Gaspar knelt down on the floor trying to catch his breath.

“Good? Maybe next to a blindfolded old rat that had already tired himself out from practicing all morning.” Ayer knelt next to him, surprised by the scent of citrus oil permeating his fur.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You did well. I’m proud of you.” Gaspar got up and helped the young buck to his hind paws. “Come, I’ll run us a bath so you can settle up the score. What was the final tally?”

“Fifteen to six, I believe.” Ayer sighed but kept his smile.

“Then I suppose we plan a rematch in the near future, see if we can get it more even.”

“I’d like that, sir.” Ayer smirked as he started out of the room.

“You playful tart,” Gaspar laughed, following him down the hall.

As promise, Gaspar heated a tub of water with a few drops of lemon oil in it. It managed to fill the entire chilly bathing room with an exhilarating scent.

Ayer stepped around the wall partition between the room and the door. The tile floor was cold on his paws but he played if off as if he didn’t notice. There was a homey feel to the room. It was lit by the soft ember glow of the candle in the corner, the fire light adding some much needed heat to the room. Gaspar was just removing the last of the hot stones from the bathing basin, putting them back under the wood burning stove.

“All I need do now is stoke the fire and then we can enjoy a relaxing bath.” Gaspar said, it sounded as though he were verbally going over a list in his mind rather than making a statement.

After he was done, Gaspar wasn’t shy about slipping out of his trousers, tossing them into the wicker basket by the door. Ayer found it difficult to look away from his generous girth as it rested on his heavy sack. The sight made him very self-conscious of his own size.

“No need to by shy, my boy.” Gaspar touched his hips in such a way that left him feeling tingly in his guts.

The feeling caused Ayer to suck in a sharp breath. The scent of citrus and the earthy smell of tobacco mixed with the older buck’s natural scent, they all worked to tickle Ayer’s nose. The older rat untied the lad’s trousers and pushed them down over his hips, helping to pull his leather tail through the hole in the back. The weight of the trousers did the rest of the work for them. Ayer made an attempt to cover up but could see it was too late. Gaspar was already taking in the view.

“That’s a nice pearly pecker you have there, lad. You take good care of it, I can tell.”

Ayer wasn’t sure what he meant but was too shy to ask. Gaspar could tell by the blank look on the lad’s face that he had no idea what he was talking about.

“Does, I’m talking about does. How many have you slayed with that thing?” Gaspar slipped into one side of the tub while motioning for Ayer to join him on the other.

“Is that one of the questions I have to answer?” He settled into the warm water, the level of it threatened to spill over the lip of the tub.

“Yeah, that seems fair.” Gaspar rested his hind paws lazily over Ayer’s hips.

“None, I’ve never been with a doe before. I’ve never even kissed one.”

“Oh, you’re into bucks then?” Gaspar’s interests were piqued.

“No, at least, I don’t think so. I’ve just never been intimate with anyone before. Momma was very religious. She always said that sort of thing was precious. She never missed a chance to remind me that my father was the only one she’d ever laid with and that was only after they had a proper wedding.” Ayer explained, slipping his own hind paws over the older rat’s hips.

“If that was their type of thing, then more power to them.”

“What about you?”

“Hmm?”

“How many does have you been with?” Ayer dipped his paws in the water.

 “Not as many as bucks, I must admit. Does are fragile and beautiful things, whereas bucks don’t tend to break as easily. There’s something more rowdy and raucous about them.” Gaspar took one of Ayer’s hind paws and started to massage the tough knots on the ball of it.

Ayer tensed at the feeling. “That tickles.”

“Just close your eyes and relaxed. You worked hard today, you deserve a little pampering.” The older rat rolled a knuckle down the center of the lad’s foot. “Do you want to ask me a question, or should I keep asking you?”

Ayer bit down, trying to keep from losing composure, though now he could no longer tell whether it tickled or just felt good. After a moment, he smiled sheepishly and waved his hand as if to tell Gaspar to go ahead and ask the next one.

“Was your dad in the war?”

“Yes, he fought as part of the front line brigade but he was also part of a secret organization that worked behind enemy lines.” Ayer lay back against the tub, still trying to stay in control.

“He was? Did he ever talk about it?” Gaspar ran his fingers between the young buck’s toes and across the instep of his hind paw.

“Yes,” Ayer pulled his paw away, laughing. “He said that those were some of the finest times he ever had before he met my mother. Five rowdy bucks, charged with ending the war before anymore rats were lost. They were like brothers and did everything together.”

Gaspar laughed along with him. His green eyes studying the buck’s face, noticing the paw rub had the desired effect on the younger rat that he wanted. Ayer played it cool by dropping a washcloth strategically over his swollen member.

“You know, I was in part of one of those groups when I served. Our name was, Le Linge Noire.” He could tell by Ayer’s reactions that he’d heard of it before.

“My father was part of the same unit?”

“Ahh, he was a Liner! No wonder he loved it so much. Finest bucks the military offered. What years did he serve?”

Gaspar couldn’t be sure if it was Ayer’s youthful enthusiasm or the fact he could tell how excited the lad was but it left him in the same condition. Though, Gaspar wasn’t shy about the lad seeing his. Ayer feigned as though he didn’t notice but his blush was a dead giveaway.

“I’m not sure. It was a few years before I was born.”

“Then he must have served a few years after me. My years as a Liner were the pinnacle of my career. That’s why I retired afterwards. I knew there would never be a finer time.”

Gaspar bit his bottom lip, lost to thoughts of the past. Ayer too was wrapped up in his own musings but his were more a curious nature.

“How do two bucks…” Ayer purposefully let himself trail off.

“Sex?”

Ayer nodded.

“I’ve tried a great variety of ways; all of them good to different degrees. One of my favorites is the paw job, both front and back paws. It doesn’t matter to me.” Gaspar picked up his cigarette pouch and pulled out a neatly rolled cigarette, giving it a quick light.

“A paw job?”

“Have you ever masturbated before?”

“No!” Ayer tensed.

“Liar,” Gaspar, looked at him coyly before taking another drag from his cigarette.

“Alright, yes. I use to do it in the cellar because my parents-”

“Thought it was an affront to god, yes, yes. My mother and father felt the same way but what’s a lad to do, idle hands and all, right?” There was teasing tone in his voice.

“Tell me, boy, what do you know about sex?” Gaspar grunted as he held in his breath before blowing out the staunch smell of tobacco.

“Just what I learned from my friends at school, a buck’s penis goes into a doe’s vagina and that’s how mouselings are conceived.” Ayer felt the heat from his face, starting to seep into his ears.

“Yeah, but that’s not all there is to it. Sex can be a way to release stress. It can be a way to help strengthen your relationship with anyone.” There was something whimsical about the way Gaspar put things.

“Like your friends?”

“Yes, my boy, especially your friends.”

“Have you ever…”

“When I was a member in Le Linge Noire, that’s how we spent many of our nights keeping warm. It was all a game for a while but there was one lad in particular; I could have sworn we’d be together forever. He knew all the right things to say, knew just how to touch me.” Gaspar took another drag from his cigarette before snuffing it out on the side of the tub. “In the end, he said ‘boys will be boys’ and went home to his fiancée as simply as that.”

“I’m sorry.” Ayer didn’t know what else to say. He could see by the sad look in Gaspar’s eyes that the soldier meant something more to him that just a frivolous game.

“It can’t be helped now. I’ve not spoke to him in years but I heard that he has a family and two children; they’re all doing well without me. If he were ever interested in getting in touch with me, I’ve not heard of it but would welcome it all the same.”

“So you’re into, bucks?” Ayer averted his gaze nervously.

“As I’ve mentioned before, I’ve enjoyed both but I prefer bucks, if we’re being truthful and I think that we are.” Gaspar could see more than just the boy’s interests were piqued.

“Does it hurt?” Ayer squirmed nervously.

“That’s a very broad question; there are so many variables to take into considerations. But I guess for the simplified answer, sometimes it hurts.” Gaspar couldn’t resist smiling at the boy’s nervous curiosity.

“There are things that can be done to make it not hurt, if you’re wondering.” Gaspar tested Ayer’s comfort by caressing softly along his knee.

“I…”

Gaspar snickered and pulled his hand away. “I’m not offering to try them on you, at least not yet.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it before.”

“Who does? It’s not a thought really; it’s a feeling, an attraction. You’ll know the moment you know.” Gaspar took another cigarette out of his pouch and tucked it in his mouth. “Do you trust me?”

“I…” Ayer hesitated for only a second, in that time a million things played through his mind clouding each other out. “Yes.”

“Let me show you something.” Gaspar leaned close, the cigarette hung from his bottom lip.

Ayer swallowed hard and nodded. Gaspar lit his cigarette and took a drag. His lips curled back in a welcoming smile. He used his strong legs to grip Ayer’s hips and pull him closer, forcing him to lay back with his head on the edge of the bathing basin. With one paw he took the cigarette from his mouth, with other he closed it around the lad’s hard length beneath the water and gave it a slowly rub from base to tip. Ayer’s fur bristled all the way up his body until it manifested itself from his mouth as a gasp.

“Feel good?”

“Ye…yeah.”

Gaspar gave him a few more gentle tugs before Ayer started to squirm.

“It’s not very different than jerking off.” Gaspar spoke softly. “The thing I love about it, is the lack of control on pressure and speed. You have to leave it up to the other player on the field. It’s invigorating.”

Ayer’s eyes slipped closed as he stretched out. Gaspar could feel the muscles in his strong legs tense and quiver. He concentrated on going slow, teasing the boy so he could watch his composure break down to the base animalistic needs.

“Sir?” There was a knock at the door right before it opened.

Ayer snapped up in the basin splashing water on the floor. The move was so jarring that Gaspar lost his grip.

Miss Gertrud stepped around the wall partition with a soft smile on her face. When Ayer saw her, his face and ears blazed like the sun.

“We’re in the middle of a bath, Miss Gertrud.” Gaspar took a puff off his cigarette; he was as cool as a cucumber.

“Mr. Mathers is here to speak to you about payment. He apologizes for the late hour but he’s leaving town for the rest of the month and needs that money to keep his mother’s caregiver paid in his absence.” The pretty brown rat spoke softly. She reminded Ayer of his language teacher from school, which only made his growing embarrassment worse.

“Oh Geoffrey, he’ll be late to his own judgement day, I swear. Please tell him I’ll be right there, will you?”

Miss Gertrud bowed her head politely and turned, giving Ayer the most gracious of smiles so much that her eyes lit up behind her spectacles.

Once she was gone, Gaspar got up from the tub, his hard cock was face level with Ayer and even though the lad shied away, Gaspar just smiled at him as if he were a mouser that brought a fresh kill home to his master.

The old rat stepped out of the tub and did a quick towel off before wrapping it around his waist. He stepped down into his house shoes to lessen chill on his hide paws.

“Might I suggest you…take care of yourself,” Gaspar chuckled before biting down so just the tip of his tongue could be seen.

“I will.”

“And if you could, please don’t do it in the tub. We still have to use that water a few more days before its changing on Sunday.”

“Wait, weren’t you going to do the same thing to me?”

Gaspar pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and licked his lips. “Oh, I had a plan to keep that from happening.”

Ayer’s shifted his eyes away from the lecherous rat. “I…” But he couldn’t bring himself to form the words on his tongue.

Gaspar snickered as he walked away. Ayer waited until he heard the door close before he got up from the tub. His dick had never been so swollen before. It throbbed and pulsed every time he moved. He barely made it to the sink before he started jerking off.

Oddly, this wasn’t the first time he’d masturbated in the sink. Bathroom visits were the only privacy he could get back home. When he lived with his family; he shared a room with his sister and they’d even bathed together to conserve water. Often times, Ayer would feign having to go to the bathroom just for a moment of peace or to work off his stress.

Ayer pressed a paw to the wall beside the polished metal mirror. He hung his dick over the edge of the sink and pawed from just under the tip all the way to his swollen balls. It hurt to touch he heated meat at first but it didn’t take long for the soft rolling pleasure to seep in. He closed his eyes and imagined Miss Gertrud.

Her beautiful face smiled with the same welcoming look she always had for him. Her fingers played with the top three clasps of her blouse. One after another, they popped open until the fabric slipped away for him to see the soft curved mounds of her breasts. They were snugged tightly together in her ill-fitting bra.

Ayer touched them and she let out a soft moan, it sounded so real. How polite she was to pull her breasts free from her bra. He could count the dark moles just under the light fur on her tits. Each mole was worthy of a kiss and he was all too willing to give them, using his tongue to treat them in kind.

Gertrud moaned his name and lay back on the dresser that had recently not been there. She slowly hiked the hem of her simple dress up. Ayer watched as more of her ample legs came into view. He was surprised to see she wasn’t wearing any underwear. What he saw was beautiful and simplistic like the pictures from his school books.

She cooed and nodded, letting out a soft moan as he mounted her…

Ayer panted as the waves of his climax shook his body. A few ribbons of cum hit the opposite side of the sink basin. The rest dribbled lazily down the underside of his cock, on his fingers to pool in the bottom of the bowl. He didn’t stop until the waves of tingling subsided.

He clung to the wall to keep from falling over. His breathing was starting to slow and his body ached from the workout, both before and after his bath. He looked up at the rosy gleam on his face and ears in the mirror. He saw something shift just outside of view from behind the wall partition. It was only there for a split second.

Ayer was quick to use the wash cloth to cover up before slowly walking to where he’d seen the shadow move but there was nothing there. For a second, he thought it was a trick of the candle light, or maybe the glow from the wood burning stove but then he smelt the lingering scent of cigarettes with the undertone of lemon oil. It caused a cool chill to run up his spine as he was quick to get back to cleaning up, so he could get dressed.


	5. A Night Out

Gaspar tucked his hands behind his back and strolled along the base of the large human building. It was late at night and there wasn’t a soul in sight. Gaspar quietly hummed to himself as he took a long drag from his cigarette.

“Do keep up.” His thick French accent rolled with the smoke he exhaled.

Ayer didn’t need to be told twice. He followed Gaspar closer than either of them should be comfortable with already. The anxiety of being on the human streets was enough to stop his heart.

“You needn’t worry, Ayer, thanks to the brewing revolution. There isn’t a human alive stupid enough to be caught out at this time of night.” Gaspar wrapped his arm across the young rat’s shoulders.

“It still doesn’t keep me from worrying.”

“Ah, little bug, soon I’ll arrange for all your worries to be swept away.” There was a teasing tone in the older rat’s voice.

“Where are you taking me?”

Gaspar looked at him with a smirk before blowing a small puff smoke through his nose into the lad’s face. He pointed up at a small placard placed above a crack in the corner stone of the building. “We’re here.”

“Ruby Rose?” Ayer read the words out loud and felt his cheeks growing hot.

“May I assume by the look on your face, you know where we are?” Gaspar didn’t wait for a response; he ducked down and slipped through the narrow crack.

Ayer nodded even though Gaspar had already headed in. Then he followed behind the older rat. The cavern was nearly pitch black with the exception of a glowing pink light that could barely be seen around Gaspar’s figure in front of him.

When they did finally step out from the darkness; they were in a small room with nothing more than a candle set behind a piece of red stained glass on one side and a carved wooden door on the other.

Ayer opened his mouth to speak but Gaspar began a rhythmic rapping on the wooden door. It sounded like the French National Anthem with an odd tonal spacing. Soon it was followed by the sound of a heavy lock shifting inside the door.

“Monsieur De Laurente, it’s been a long time.”

“Mademoiselle Miraque, it’s so good to see you again.” Gaspar bowed graciously.

Ayer peaked over the taller rat’s shoulder for a look at who he was talking too. A young female rat stood before them. Her paw wrapped up in Gaspar’s as he kissed the back of it. The doe was a few years younger than Gaspar and looked very good for her age. Her face was painted up perfectly with some misbegotten human cosmetics. She wore a lacy bodice with a matching pair of stockings that managed to cover her more private areas. The white color looked beautiful on her sandy blonde fur. The sight of the young doe furthered the blush on the youth’s face. His trousers grew tighter from the sight.

“Sir, do call me Patricia. We’ve known each other too long to play this game.” She giggled, the fake black beauty mark on her cheek pulled tight from her smile.

“I’ll agree as long as you call me Gaspar.”

“It sounds like we have an accord then.”

Patricia stepped away from the door and bowed, beckoning them inside. The main room was built into the floor of the building above. Each room was blocked off by doors built into the wooden skeletal beams of the floor. The main room itself was decorated with soft couches, carved tables. Large candles set behind stained glass added both heat and ambiance to the room. There were doors made from the hollowed arches and carved as intricately as the front door.

It was only then that Patricia noticed the young lad hiding behind Gaspar. “Oh, I see you’ve brought company.”

“I did, this is my ward, Ayer. Ayer, this is Patricia Miraque. You can call her Madame.” Gaspar was being as charming as usual.

Patricia offered her paw to the youth, who took it, immediately regretting the decision since his own paw was trembling. He quickly placed a peck to the back of it before backing away. His face felt like a powder keg ready to explode.

“Your ward, you say?”

“Yes, his family perished in the Sauvignon House fire. He’s been with me ever since.” Even as Gaspar finished his explanation, a gloom settled over the room.

“You have my condolences, lad.” Patricia’s demeanor softened, a motherly glow came to her eyes.

“It’s alright, everyday gets a little better, I think.” Ayer nodded.

“Is there something I can do for you,” Patricia walked behind the counter, lifting a small blown glass bottle with a red liquid sloshing around inside of it.

The way Gaspar gestured, it seemed as though he were up to something unsavory. “I thought it would be nice for you to show the lad…your talents.”

“Talents, hmm?” Patricia poured two glasses of wine, nudging one across the counter towards Gaspar. “How old is he?”

“Fifteen, nearly sixteen, his birthday is in a few days, hence why I’m here.”

Ayer heart jumped in his chest when he heard his age said aloud in this sort of place. It only felt worse as Patricia leaned closer to whisper to Gaspar. He couldn’t hear her voice but did a good enough job reading her lips.

“You know I don’t house women that age, nor do I condone that type of interaction with someone his age.” Patricia voice smelled warm of spiced wine.

“I know; that’s why I’m bringing him to you personally, my dear.” Gaspar unhooked his purse from his belt and set it on the counter.

“Me, I’m nearly twice his age.”

“And the experience that sweet boy deserves for his first time.”

“He’s a virgin?”

Gaspar nodded. “And in need of your caring touch to cure that fact,” He slid the pouch across the counter slowly. “And for your services, all of this will be yours.”

Patricia scoffed and shook her head. “No.”

“Just look in it.”

“If it will humor you, then I will.” Patricia opened the pouch and gasped at the sight within. “Is this?”

“Diamond dust, why yes it is. My last trip to Sweden was very lucrative for me. There is enough here to make a hundred pieces of jewelry. Keep twenty for yourself and sell the rest to the highest bidder, whatever you want to do is fine.” Gaspar smirked, his confident was overwhelming.

Patricia finished the rest of her wine before taking up Gaspar’s glass and draining it too. “So he gets-”

“The best you can give.”

“Fine, I agree. But tell me first, what are you gaining from this?”

“While you’re working, I want access to _The Room_ ,” Gaspar leaned close to whisper into the doe’s round ear.

“Oh,” Her eyes grew bigger. “I think I understand.”

“I knew you would.”

“I will do this but in addition to the fee paid, you will tell no one about this. I have a reputation to uphold.” Patricia said through gritted teeth.

“I’m a gentleman; I would never endanger my only friend.”

“If I am your only friend, I can see why.” Patricia smirked. “Now off with you, you know where to go. Here’s the key.”

Gaspar picked up the brass key and bowed respectfully. “I really appreciate this.”

“I bet you do.” Patricia winked at him and walked past.

“Marcie, please send Lyrica to my room with hot water for a bath. Give it two drops of rose water and one of lavender please.” Patricia asked another scantily clad white doe who was passing through the main room.

“Certainly Madame, do you wish for me to watch the front for you?”

“Yes, thank you, Marcie. I may be in there for quite some time.” Patricia gave a calm smile to the doe before she walked away.

Patricia approached Ayer, who was busy looking around the room. “Making yourself at home, I hope?” She asked; her mothering tone still in full swing.

“Ah yes, thank you.” Ayer smiled nervously.

“You name is Ayer, right?”

“Yes,” Ayer tucked his hands behind his back. “I hope Gaspar hasn’t put you up to anything…bad.”

“Gaspar, no, he couldn’t make me do anything I wasn’t already interested in doing.” Patricia laced her arm with his and led him along the row of doors all the way to the one in the back.

Ayer walked along with her but he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was the one leading him along the way. When she reached the door, it stood partially open, the sound of water being poured into a bathing basin came from inside. A rat only a few years older than Ayer came through the door carrying two wooden buckets in her paws. She was startled by the sudden appearance of the Madame.

“Just a few more buckets full, ma’am.” Her voice was deeper than Ayer thought it would be.

“Thank you, Lyrica.”

“Ma’am?” The young doe made a questioning gesture toward Ayer.

“Sometimes there are exceptions to even the strictest rules.” Patricia smiled. “Diamond dust, after all, is a doe’s best friend.”

“Diamond…dust. Are you certain you wouldn’t like me to take your place in this, Madame?” There was a lilted laugh in the doe’s voice.

“Oh no, I have this under control but if I need an extra paw, I’ll let you know.”

The doe nodded and started off the way Ayer and Patricia had come from. Ayer let his gaze follow her. Her grey fur appeared almost blue in tone amidst the candle light. It only worked to make her eyes appear to be even bluer than they really were. Her body was young but robustly shaped in the lower regions. Her hips swung on instinct or maybe she knew he was still watching. It only worked to tent the young lad’s pants more. It was then that she turned and looked back at him, giving him a clumsy wave. She’d known he’d been looking after all.

“She’s quite marvelous, isn’t she?” Patricia took his paw and led him into the room.

“Huh, ah…”

“It’s okay,” Patricia giggled. “I’m a doe of age. Where I am still beautiful; I’ll never be that beautiful again. But it’s a fair trade off, I suppose, I’ve gained so much wisdom and am far smarter than I was when I was her age.”

“I meant no offense.”

“Good, because none was taken,” Patricia licked her lips at the innocence he displayed. It was unique next to the normal crowd she dealt with. “Come; let’s get you into something more befitting.”

Patricia left the door open a crack before crossing the room to help Ayer sit at the edge of the bed. She could feel his paw trembling, which was usual for a buck of his age. Still, she’d taken bucks a few years older than him for their first jaunt that were less composed than he.

“Madame,” He whispered, as she plucked the strings at his collar, loosening the fabric.

“Please, call me Patricia.” She reached down to loosen the ties at his wrists.

“Patricia.” He began again; his breath was ragged in his throat. “I’ve never actually done anything like this before.”

“I know, Gaspar told me.”

Slowly Patricia took both of his sleeves and helped pull his arms out before dropping the shirt on the floor. “That’s why he brought you to me. I’m the best and he said that is what you deserve.”

“The best, is that true?”

“It is.” Lyrica sidled through the door with the two buckets again. “You’re very fortunate to share time with the Madame.” Lyrica set one bucket on the floor as she poured the other into a copper bathing basin. “She’s very expensive and turns rats and mice away in droves. When she does pick one that’s worthy, I enjoy watching her methods from the privacy of _The Room_.”

Patricia’s face strained. “That…that’s quite enough, Lyrica.”

“I’m sorry, Madame.”

“No need, I just don’t want you to get his hopes set too high, only to have me disappoint him.”

“I…don’t think that’s possible.” Ayer chuckled.

Lyrica poured the last bucket into the basin before adding a few drops of oil from a set of glass bottles on the shelf next to the tub. “Your bath is ready, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“I know this goes without saying but enjoy your evening, sir.” Lyrica started for the door.

“Ayer, that’s…my name.”

“Pleased to meet you, Ayer, I’m Lyrica.” Her smile pulled her soft pink lips tight so her bucked teeth showed. “Ma’am, do you need anything else.”

“I think we’re good.” Patricia followed the blue rat to the door, closing and locking it behind her.

“Now that we’re alone,” Patricia turned around to face him. “Care to help me strip out of this bodice.”

“Uhm,” Ayer reached out but hesitation numbed his fingers.

“It’s simple, scoot back and spread ‘em.”

Ayer did as he was told, so Paticia could sit between his legs. A soft scent of rose oil did little to cover up her mature doe smell. It only works to constrict his trousers more. When she pushed back against him, she giggled as the thing poking her in the small of her back.

“I can feel that you’re already quite ready to go.”

“I…”

“Don’t be embarrassed, every rat has to start from the humble beginning.” She looked back over her shoulder at him. “Now, let’s get this thing off of me.”

Patricia directed him how to undo the string at the top of the bodice and loosen each individual rung until it was loose enough to slip two fingers along the base at the bottom. He executed it to the letter. She pushed it down over her hips and down around her ankles, rewarding him with a look at her softer parts, barely covered by her lacy stockings. She quickly turned around, teasing him by keeping her breasts covered with her arms.

“Can…I see?”

“Such a polite, you buck, how can I say no?” She moved her arms, tucking them behind her back, so he could see her small breasts.

With as much as she talked about her age, he expected to see her boobs sagging more but they were still fairly perky and the most beautiful thing his young eyes had ever seen. Just the sight of them made his mouth dry with excitement.

Slowly, she slipped her thumbs underneath the band of her stockings and pushed them down to her ankles, kicking them away. The way Patricia posed was beautifully teasing while still showing off her plump mound beneath the tangle of pubic fur.

“Your gaze makes me feel young again, sir,” She whispered in a sultry voice that played along her French accent so well. “As if it’s our first time and we’re in the barn out back just before my father catches us.”

The idea that she was talking to him in such a way caused a deep tingling to roll through his loins and now he was very aware at how uncomfortable his pants were.

“This is-”

“You look uncomfortable, let me help you.” Patricia leaned close and untied the string on his trousers masterfully.

She gripped the band of his pants and tugged. Ayer lifted his hind end from the bed, so she could slip them off easier. It was then; she was face to face with his larger than average cock, especially for his age. It was swollen and throbbing already. The head was a healthy purple against the lighter color shaft. His plump balls were full and ready to be drained.

“Wow, Ayer, you’re quite full of surprises aren’t you-”

Patricia barely closed her paw around the hot meat before a jet of white cum shot from the tip, splashing the side of her muzzle. His eyes shot open wide and cheeks flushed red, more from embarrassment that exertion. Courteously, she gave him a few pumps, continuing to help him finish. The look on his face showed he was already embarrassed enough. There was no reason to let him suffer discomfort as well. Several smaller ribbons spurted down his cock, over her paw, and onto his belly in a mess of tangled fur.

“I’m so sorry,” Ayer panted as Patricia used her stockings to wipe the side of her muzzle.

“Why would you be sorry, for enjoying my company?”

“No…but, it’s not how this is supposed to be, right?” Ayer’s eyes grew misty.

“Hey, hey,” Patricia touched his face with her clean paw. “This is your first time, you cannot expect yourself to be veteran between the sheets, kid.”

“I know, I just…”

“Just nothing, there are so many disappointments in life. This wasn’t one. I genuinely enjoyed it and I’m a prostitute, I’ve never enjoyed sex a day in my life.” Patricia’s cold truth stuck like an icepick in the dark.

“Really,”

“Yes. You’re a sweet kid and you’re going to make some doe very happy someday. I’m just lucky to have shared this experience with you.” Patricia smiled motherly at him before lewdly licking his cum from her paw. “To be young again and have a chance to meet you would be a dream.”

Ayer blushed deeply from her action. Her words worked to mist his eyes further. Without another word, she took his paw and pulled him over to the tub.

“Take a bath with me.” She whispered, slipping into the tub and leaning back against the smoothed edge.

            Ayer was slow to climb in and she lifted her paw, making a rotation motion with her finger, so he knew to sit with his back to her. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his smaller form and pulled him back against her. His cheeks flushed at the feeling of her breasts pressed to his back.

“Relax.” She giggled a teasing huff of breath against the back of his ear.

The fur on his arms bristled to the point that a chuckle huffed from his lips. “It’s hard.”

“I know it is; I can see it bobbing on top of the water as we speak.” Another playful giggle teased his neck.

“Oh, I meant-”

“Shh.” She whispered and pressed her bucked teeth to the nape of his neck, bringing a lingered whimper from him.

“If you keep that up, I’m going to-”

“That’s the plan, sweetheart. For now, though, close your eyes and slow your breathing.”

Ayer did as she instructed him to do. The tingling feeling of her teeth, combing the fur at the back of his neck caused his cock to start throbbing again. Patricia watched the tip bobbing just above the surface of the water, one paw made slow circles around the base of his dick to clear away the sticky cum clinging to his fur. Each time her fingers caressed the soft flesh through the fur, he quivered more.

“It feels good.” He sighed.

“For me too,” Her own voice was tensed, just like his.

It wasn’t until then that he felt the muscles in her other forearm flexing and rippling. The idea that she was masturbating right behind him caused the same tingling feeling from before to grow deep inside again.

Each time her for arms shifted, or he felt a knuckle tap the small of his back, he imagined her fingers rolling along the soft lips before pushing in deeper. Her body was starting to shake, almost as hard as his was. Her breath came in short pant against his shoulder. That’s when she closed her paw around his length and started to rub him.

The feeling deep in his groin tensed in his balls, tightening them closer to his body. His breathing matched hers, except there was a desperate, childish whimper behind it. The type of sound that made her feel dirty for needing this but she wasn’t about to stop now.

The first shot pumped from his cock tip and fell helplessly against the surface of the water. There wasn’t a whole lot left in him after what happened earlier but seeing it was enough to bring her climax to peak. Her fingers plunging in between her swollen lips before dragging them up to her tight nub and with a final pinch, she bit down on his shoulder and whimpered out her orgasm in time with his. Both their bodies shook hard enough to vibrate the surface of the water.

After a few seconds, it was all over. Patricia slumped back against the side of the tub and panted heavily. When Ayer tried to move, she quickly pulled him back so his head rested against her collar bone. It was clear that she didn’t want him to move. Instead, he cupped her paw in his and lay there for a long time in silence.

Finally, he asked. “Would…would it be alright if I asked for a kiss?”

“I don’t usually do that sort of thing.”

There was a long pause between them. At first he thought he’d insulted her but it wasn’t until she reached up and touched his chin that he half turned to look at her. She gave him a soft peck on the lips, nothing more but there was still something behind it, some sort of emotion. Just like that he settled back against her and they both lay there in the tub together with their thoughts.

Just on the other side of the wall, across from the bed sat another rat, lost in deep thoughts. Gaspar leaned back in his cushioned chair; his once hard cock grew flaccid in in a sticky mess in the fur on his belly. A cigarette hung from his dried lips as he cupped a glass of red liquid in his paw.

“I take it you enjoyed the show?” Lyrica asked, kneeling down to clean him up with a warm bucket of water and a towel.

“That lad is something amazing, isn’t he?”

“Of course he is.” Lyrica answered but it came from her own interests in the young buck.

“I’m going to make him mine, you hear me.” Gaspar took a sip of his wine before flinching from her continuing to wipe away his mess.


	6. Feels Like the First Time

Ayer knocked on the door. His trembling paw could barely remember the French national anthem even though he’d practiced it the last half-hour of his walk. The door slowly opened and he was greeted by a warm smiled that quickly faded once they realized that it was him on the on the other side of the door.

“It’s you,” Lyrica mouth hung open as if she were trying to remember his name.

“Ayer.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Sorry, I’m usually better with names, I was just shocked to see it was you.” Lyrica stepped away from the door, beckoning him in.

“Who’s at the…Ayer?” Patricia was rounding the counter; she stopped once she saw the lad.

“I’m sorry to intrude but I…”Ayer paused. The blush on his cheek was a dead giveaway that he lost his nerves.

Lyrica smiled at him as she laced their arms. “Yes?”

“I brought money.” He finally managed to work out.

Patricia and Lyrica shared a glance before starting to giggle at the innocence of his confession. The older rat walked up and rested a paw on his shoulder. The smell of wine hovered around her, overpowering her perfume.

“I told you, it was a one-time deal little one. Besides, I’m getting ready to head to my chamber for the night.”

“Not you,” Ayer spoke before thinking. “I mean, at least not this time. I was hoping that Lyrica would be available.”

Patricia snickered at her forwardness. “Walked into that one didn’t I?”

Lyrica giggled. “Now, now, he said not this time.”

“I meant no insult, Miss Patricia. I just…” Ayer looked up at Lyrica. She was nearly a head taller than he was.

“Again, none taken,” Patricia stepped around the counter and lifted a crisp roll of parchment paper; she broke the wax seal and unrolled it across the counter. It looked as though it had never been used.

“Ma’am?” Lyrica dropped his arm and stepped up to the counter. “Is that-”

“Your register, yes, I think your time has finally come to get you out there and working.”

“This is incredible.” Lyrica was visually shaking.

“I figured this would be a good place to start. Ayer’s a sweet boy and I trust that he won’t hurt you.”

“Hurt her, what…” Ayer shook his head. “I’d never hurt anyone.”

“See, he’s a good boy.”

Lyrica laced her arm with his again. Patricia set her feathered pen to the paper and scrawled across the page in a fluid calligraphy that was as a beautiful as she was.

“For this visit, I’ve assigned you the name of Reay and you’re now eighteen, at least for the next hour.” Patricia chuckled and scrawled some more things in the large book. “That will be forty-five Francs, Reay.”

The lad stepped forward and counted out the correct amount of coins before sliding them across the counter. “Here’s fifty, keep the rest.” He said politely.

“That’s the way to make an impression,” Patricia smiled and slid the coins off the counter into a pouch before making a note on the page. “Please proceed to room three; I want to have a moment alone with Lyrica before you two…conduct your business.”

Ayer nodded and started down the row of doors. He looked back and saw Patricia rubbing Lyrica’s shoulders. She seemed nervous and shaken. He couldn’t help but listen in to what the ladies were talking about.

“Remember what I told you.” Patricia smiled at her in a motherly fashion.

“If he gets violent, ring the bell.” Lyrica spoke and Patricia nodded along. “If he wants something I’m not comfortable with, be assertive but kindly explain why you don’t want to do it. No kissing on the lips. Don’t get attached, and most importantly, don’t fall in love.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, my dear.” Patricia hugged her tightly. “Now, do good work and make me proud.”

Ayer slipped into the room before he was caught eaves dropping. The room was warm from the small fireplace in the corner. Candles were spread to every surface, flickering their amber glow around the room. The bed sat across from the fireplace. It was small but looked soft and inviting with its flower patterned duvet. It was oddly clean and smelled of lavender oil. A bathing basin sat half full of water close to the fire. The water inside was barely lukewarm. A small basket sat atop a nearby. Ayer’s curiosity got the best of him as he took a look. Inside were some long scarves, a collar and chains, something that looked like a riding crop. There was a myriad of other items that Ayer didn’t know what they were for.

“Those…are for the more advance does and patrons.” A voice whispered from behind, he heard the door slide closed.

When he turned, he saw Lyrica leaning against the door. Ayer could see she was trembling despite the warmth of the room. She smiled in a rehearsed fashion and slowly undid her bodice clips along one side. When it fell away, her breasts settled into young mounds on her chest. The weight of them hung a bit. Her rich dark nipples showed through the steel gray fur. She let him gaze at them for only a second before she slipped free of her lacy stockings, careful to kick them aside. Again she posed for his admiration.

Ayer snatched a quick breath as if he were surfacing from the water or simply forgot to breathe. “You’re even more beautiful than you were the last time I saw you.”

Lyrica smirked and cocked her head dismissively. Whatever words she could produce never came. Instead, she crossed the room and touched the collar of his tunic. Ayer rested his chilly paws against her hips making her squirm and gasp, yet she didn’t pull away. The feeling of her curves under his caressing fingers caused Ayer’s trousers to grow incredibly taut. It had happened so suddenly that a wave of pleasure rolled over him, threatening to climax already but embarrassment from last time eased the feeling away.

“You have me for an hour, what would you like to do.”

“Hold you for a moment.”

Lyrica smiled at his innocents and pulled him close, so his face rested in the crook of her neck. His paws roamed along her hips and side to rest at the small of her back. Her blue gray fur was a soft as it was beautiful and she smelled of lilac and lavender. Ayer breathed her in deeply and exhaled with a desperate ferocity.

When he looked up at her, he touched their lips in an even more desperate move to show his affection. Lyrica’s eyes went wide but she didn’t pull away. Something told her that he needed this confidence boost. ‘Make them feel as if they’re the only ones that matter.’ Patricia hissed in the back of her mind as if the older doe was in the room with them.

Lyrica tightened her hold on him; she could feel him trembling like a blade of grass in the wind. The kiss never deepened, never intruded further. When he pulled away, Ayer’s face was lit up like a ballroom. The heat alone was enough to chase the chill from her body.

“That was amazing.” He whispered.

“Thank you,” Lyrica slowly slid her hands up his body, under the hem of his tunic, pulling his shirt up as she went.

“I have to warn you…I’m not very-”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not here to judge.” Lyrica interrupted as she pulled his tunic over his head and off. She let it fall to the floor.

Lyrica untied his trousers and slipped them down over his rounded hips. His young soft body underneath was growing firmer under his training but there was still a newness to him that caused her a second of pause. It faded when his fully erected cock snapped free from the fabric. It was bigger that she remembered from her time of observation in ‘the room’. It pulsed and throbbed excitedly at her closeness. The sight was a little more intimidating than she initially thought but when she looked into his eyes; she knew she had to steel herself. This was, after all, her job.

Ayer could see in her eyes that she was well aware of his newness and willingness to accept it. She simply bit her bottom lip and cradled his face in her chilly paws. Slowly she arched her back and bumped one of her taut nipples against his lips. He eagerly took it into his mouth and bit.

“No!” She whispered sharply in his ear. “If you must bite, be gentle - like this.” She bit his ear softly, feeling him immediately tense his lips around her areola, his teeth relaxing to the moan building in his throat.

Even with the heat of his blush, her breath was warm against the crest of his ear. Slowly he relaxed his lips and suckled her dark skin into his mouth. She hissed pleasurably into his ear before following it up with a lick along the top of his ear. He followed her lead, pressing the flat of his tongue against the taut mound of her nipple. He was easy to lead, she noticed and pressed him to do things that she enjoyed because she knew he would enjoy them too.

“Good boy,” She whispered and trembled harder at the roll of his tongue.

“I’m gonna…”

The alert was sudden but she took control. Teasingly, she pulled away. The move was so quick it was followed by the smack of his lips as she snatched her nipple away. He looked at her through wide eyes and she smiled.

“How do you want your first time to be?” She asked.

“I…”

Lyrica knew she could just skip to the main attraction but he’d be done in a second of desperate passion. He deserved his first time to be better. She took his paw and moved him to sit at the edge of the bed and shoved him to lean back on his paws.

“What-”

“Shh,” She touched a finger to her lips.

What happened next was a blessed storm of surprises. The warmth of her mouth around the head of his cock stunned him silent for a few necessary seconds but it was gone in a frenzied haze. His head was spinning so hard that he barely missed her gagging on the first burst of his hot seed. Each addition wave collapsed under her ability to keep control. Her muzzle bobbed as much of his meat into her mouth, milking him of his innocence.

Ayer collapsed back on the soft feather down duvet and panted. Lyrica wasn’t put off by his weakened state. She continued her soft licks along the saliva soaked flesh. Each one caused him to jolt, each noise he made reinforced her control over him and it made her feel strong.

“I can’t…” He panted.

“Shh, no more talking.” She whispered; her lips touched the soft fur on the inside his thigh.

Ayer covered his mouth with one quaking paw as she used her lips, tongue, and muzzle to explore him. Tender licks and kisses along his taut sack caused the shuttering response she wanted. That undulating pleasure was what Ayer needed. A soft nip on the inside of his thigh reminded him that she was in charge and he loved it.

Before too long, she’d coaxed him further up the bed, so she could lay next to him. Her lips tease his neck and collar. Each bite shuttered him and she soothed him with a few jerks of his cock, making sure to start building him up again. When he tried to speak, she would bite his ear to remind him that there was to be no more talking.

The moments felt as if they’d gone on for hours. His cock was hard and he ready again, though this time it felt more cramped and pained than it did the first time. Still, it still felt amazing to have her so close. Lyrica took him in her mouth again and bobbed a few more times, slicking him with a heavy dose of saliva. It was time for him to experience the full length of his fifty Francs.

The steel gray rat got on her knees over top of him and he looked up at her. His eyes were filled with confusion and fear of a wild animal backed into a corner. This was the first time she felt her control crumbling. He was as frightened as she was. This wasn’t her first time, her father made sure of that so many years ago but it was his and he paid the fee. It was time for her to ensure that he became a repeat customer. This was, after all, what she was trained for.

Lyrica took a deep breath and reached back between her legs to position him and then she pressed back more firmly than she thought she should and was rewarded with his surprisingly wide gauging.

He loosed a frantic mewling that gave her strength but a guilty pang settled in her stomach.  It was just another thing she’d have to work though. This was what he wanted or else he wouldn’t have paid. She started her slow trot, taking his length a little more each time. She teased him with threatening to pull away only to reward him with another fall.

Ayer head rolled as he let another soft moan escape. He carried on that way each time she settle on him. His hands instinctively gripped her hips as if fucking was a part of nature and his body already knew what to do. She was wetter than she thought she’d be. ‘Nature just works that way sometime.’ She could almost hear Patricia’s teaching tone whispering in her ear.

Lyrica rested her paws at the small of her back and let her strong legs do all the work. Slowly lifting and settling back on top him, each time he yipped a moan or whined a gasp. She watched his face, shifting and contorting to a pleasure that only she could give him right this moment. The feeling of control settled back into her and it brought with it a confidence that she knew would be worn away over time, as buck after buck chipped it away, but for now, she was powerful and he was putty in her paws.

The slow trot she worked grew faster into a full gallop. Ayer writhed underneath her; he bit down on his paw to keep his voice down as it was growing louder and more erratic. Her own loins were tingling bright, like a sparking fuse to powder keg. She fell on him with her paws on either side of his head and bore into her grinding.  He reached depths that hurt her, controlling the pleasure she felt. This was business, she reminded herself even as she looked at his beautiful face twisted with pleasure.

He was lost in the violent torrent of her breast, the smell of her sweet wine traced breath, and the scent of their natural body mingling together with the scented oils, indoctrinated him to her driving force. His fingers dug into her hips and clung desperately to her. His head spun out and his back arched against her, pumping her with whatever seed he had in reserve, which wasn’t much now. She halted her ride and let him thrust into her with desperate spasms which were crazy and violent but burned out just as quickly.

When he settled, Lyrica slipped off to lie next to him on the bed. She smiled at her handy work and knew Madame Patricia was smiling too. The doe had been aware of the pair of eyes watching her from the dark recesses of ‘the room’. She knew Madame Patricia watched her first performance and judging her caliber. Lyrica was also well aware that the older doe would be pleased by the mass of young buck lying next to her, thoroughly spent. He panted softly; his half hard dick flopped tiredly against his lap still dripping with his lust.

“That was amazing.” Ayer whimpered.

“For me too,” She cooed before getting out of bed.

“Are you leaving?” Ayer looked at her through lidded eyes.

“I have to. Your hours up, you see. But don’t worry, I’ll ask Patricia if you can stay for little while to recuperate.” There was a lilted tone in her voice that seemed more acted then sincere but Ayer couldn’t tell the difference. His head was far too hazy.

Lyrica was quick to climb into the tub, kneeling down to give herself a quick rinse of the young buck’s mess. Ayer watched her, his eyes heavy. When she noticed him, she shifted so her back was too him.

“Did you finish?”

Lyrica’s back tensed as she quickly finished flushing herself as best she could. ‘It will be important for a buck to feel as though he conquered, your job is to make him feel that he did.’ Patricia whispered in her ear from a distant memory.

“How could I not, you were amazing, sweetheart.” She whispered and climbed out of the tub, giving herself a thorough drying with the towel.

Ayer smiled and closed his eyes, his heart throbbing in his chest, while a butterfly fluttered in his stomach. This was love, he just knew it. The way she spoke to him, the things they shared between them. There was also the kiss they shared. When he looked back at her, she was pulling her stocking on. Masterfully she pulled her tail though the hole in the back and adjusted the seam so it looked right. Then she pulled her bodice back on, struggling to do up the clasps.

“Now you’ll come back and see me won’t you?”

“How could I not, I love you.” Ayer whispered.

“Me too,” She licked her lips as she spoke lovingly. “You sleep well and I’ll check on you in an hour.”

“Thank you.” He whispered and closed his eyes, feeling the sting of loneliness the moment he heard the door closed and she was gone.

Just on the other side of wall, Patricia leaned on her paw next to the peeping slot, her eyes stared at the mass of buck resting in the room, exhausted. A weary smile came to her lips as she shared in his exhaustion. She pulled a soaked paw from her stockings, her own scent thick in the small room.

The door behind her opened and Lyrica sidled in. “Ma’am?” Her voice was soft as to not disturb Ayer.

Patricia turned and sighed. The younger doe was quick to retrieve a towel and bring it to the older doe, helping her to wipe her paw off.

 “Did I do well?”

“Well enough to breathe life into this old body; let me tell you.” She leaned against the wall, tossing the towel aside.

“I learned from the best.”

“Such a good girl,” She whispered softly and wiped her brow. “You’ve made me proud.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Lyrica fell into her arms as the two hugged.


	7. Thank you, May I have Another

The kitchen smelled warm and welcoming of hot cakes and honey lemon tea. It was a beautiful smell that Miss Gertrude had come to adore in the mornings. Usually, she’d do all the baking and make tea before rousing her master and Ayer. It was easier to coax the sleepy heads to get up if there was a promise of a warm breakfast waiting for them.

This morning was a bit difference, however. Miss Gertrude had barely made it to the kitchen when Ayer walked through the front door. He smelled sweet of Lilac and sweat but there was something more under the surface. Miss Gertrude’s nose was sensitive enough to smell it.

Exhaustion filled the young buck’s posture but his eyes glistened of a foolish lad’s thoughts. These were the thoughts that kept a mind too active to sleep. Ayer agreed to sit up with Miss Gertrude while she made breakfast. She kneaded her dough and brewed some tea while they talked. Though, it seemed that all he could talk about was a steely beauty that had his heart.

Each time Gaspar stipend allowances out, that’s where Ayer would go. When he came back; he had all sorts of stories to tell. Four times, Ayer had gone to see the gray rat; Miss Gertrude and Gaspar had only heard the stories of this beautiful and very giving Lyrica that’s stolen his heart a hundred times or so and each time they’d listen anew with feigned interest. Miss Gertrude was just happy for the company, while Gaspar was losing his patience with all of it.

When his mouth was dry from talking and his tongue tired from wagging, Ayer sat quietly and looked into his barely touched teacup, eyes glazed over while Miss Gertrude talked about her night and her dreams. Miss Gertrude wasn’t sure when he’d stopped listening but knew that he was a million miles away by now. It was then, in the silence of that warm kitchen that Miss Gertrude’s heart sank.

Her Ayer was changing into something foreign to her and the reasons were nothing more than a farce unable to be seen through the eyes of the naïve. Ayer’s love, the one that he pined and pored over so fervently was nothing more than a lie.  Every week he’d pour his hard earned money into something intangible. Lyrica may love him but only as a repeat customer to line her purse.

Miss Gertrude was well aware that the lass had bills to pay, they all did. She knew that it wasn’t malicious intent in that doe’s heart, it was just business. That was the way the world worked now. Francs, gold, jewelry, it greased the gears of the day to day life. Still, so many a young bucks wasted away on such fancies until they woke to find that they had nothing to show for it.

The auburn rat reached across the butcher’s block to rest her paw on his. “I’m sure Lyrica loves you very much, but maybe it’s time for you to step away from this whole thing and look at it from an outside perspective, Ayer.”

“An outside perspective?” Ayer mumbled.

“Ayer!” Miss Gertrude’s voice spiked, it caused him to jolt awake.

“I was…”

The auburn rat sighed and shook her head. “Maybe you should get some rest. I’ll wake you up around lunchtime.”

“Are you sure?”

“I insist, thank you for sitting with me, though. It means so much to me.” Miss Gertrude gave him a hug.

The smell of the other doe’s sex started burning into her subconscious like the linger smell of burning wood. It was fast becoming a smell that she associated with trouble. This was the first time, he’d ever come home smelling like her. Usually, Miss Gertrude was asleep when Ayer came home and he’d be cleaned hours before she got up but now, having her scent so close, invading her nose; it spiked a heat at the back of her ears.

Ayer pushed his face to her breast and squeezed tightly, a soft moan escaping his lips. It caused a pang of jealousy deep inside the auburn rat. A pang that she was forced to push aside for him. Any fool could see that Miss Gertrude had developed feelings for the young buck. They’d only grown stronger over the several months they spent together. She enjoyed spending her days working alongside him during chores, loved sharing her evening with him in quiet conversation. Even when all he could talk about was Lyrica, she could ignore it because she loved being close to him.

Miss Gertrude couldn’t stand the smell any longer; she kissed the side of his head and unfurled his paws from the small of her back. When he fell back, he teetered for a second before Miss Gertrude steadied him.

“Alright, off to bed with you,” She whispered softly, hiding her disappointment.

“Okay, there’s no need to shove.” He chuckled playfully before slipping down from his stool. “Good night, Gerty.”

“Good morning, Ayer.” She sighed as he disappeared down the hall.

Miss Gertrude stared at the darkness of the doorway for a long time. Despite everything, she missed his company the moment he was gone. She took a deep breath and sighed before tending to her business. She picked up a folded cloth on her way to the wood burning stove to pull the hotcakes out.

“More talk of Lyrica,”

Gaspar’s abrupt voice caused her to squeal as she nearly dropped the pan of hotcakes. She managed a quick swivel to set them on the stone hearth before turning to confront the sneaky old rat.

“You could have given me my death, you sod.”

“My apologies,” His voice was soft.

She could see by the disheveled look of his clothes, his bloodshot eyes, and the smell of booze and cigarettes that he’d been out on the prowl all night, no doubt watching after his ward.

“You followed him again, didn’t you?” Miss Gertrude had known Gaspar far too long to beat around the bush.

“So what if I have?” Gaspar leaned tiredly with both hands on the butcher’s block. “Can I not be concerned about my ward?”

“You think me a fool, master?”

“No, I…”

Miss Gertrude’s eyes teared up. “You pine for him as much as I do, if not worse. Every glance you send his way, I can see it. Every lingered sigh I hear from your study, I feel it too. This was to be our family, he was to be the missing component to our happy family and now…”

“Someone has driven a wedge between us.”

“No, you have!” Miss Gertrude threw the towel, hitting him in the face. “You introduced him to that element all for the sake of your own wants.”

“I…”

Miss Gertrude wiped her eyes furiously on sleeves. “Just go to sleep, old rat, let sleep and dreams drown my contempt for the both of you. We’ll speak about this more tomorrow.”

Gaspar stepped up to her and gripped her chin coarsely, bringing her eyes up to look into his. “I’ll fix this, you have my word.”

His wine soaked voice caused her to pull away. “How?”

“You leave that to me.” His voice rumbled in his throat.

Without another word, he disappeared through the door, leaving Miss Gertrude alone with her thoughts. The auburn rat slumped down on one of the stools and pressed her face into her paws. Her shoulders jolted with the force of her tears. This thing that started as a fanciful dream slid into the depths of a nightmare that she couldn’t awaken from.

***

The rest of the day was spent in silences. Nothing more than passing glances between the three of them. Miss Gertrude was embarrassed by her outburst to Gaspar and was too disappointed to look Ayer in the face. Ayer was embarrassed about the condition he was in when he came home early in the morning. Gaspar was guilty of so many things that he stayed in his study most of the day only coming out long enough to pen a note of payment to Mr. Mathers.

At dinner time, the De Laurente household smelled of roasted hen with nuts and bread crumb stuffing and wood roasted potatoes and cream. Miss Gertrude pulled the heavy pan from the wood burning stove and placed it in the center of the butcher block. The warm smell of rosemary and thyme brought the stragglers back to the party.

“You’ve outdone yourself, my dear.” Gaspar wore his charm as well as he wore his burgundy tunic with the bellowed sleeves.

He took her paw and bowed before spinning her like a graceful dancer. The plume of her lightweight pearl dress fluttered out around her, showing off her new lacy stockings that Gaspar graciously snuck out to purchase for her as a gift. She took his other paw and entertained a few waltzing steps. They both chuckled foolishly before she ended the dance with a curtsy.

“And as lovely as this bounty looks, it pales in comparison to you.” He bowed again, kissing the back of her paw.

“Easy, last time you spoke to me like that; I ended up face down in your pillows.” She caressed the warming crest of her ear.

“An old rat can dream can’t he?” The fond look on his face made her smile widen.

“Evening,” Ayer sidled into the room, taking a deep breath of the food. “Gerty, that smells amazing.”

“Thank you, Ayer. I know we all had a rough night last night and an even rougher day. I wanted to make something special, maybe even have a sit down dinner for a change.” Miss Gertrude took a serving fork and knife in hand.

“Allow me.” Gaspar politely took the towel resting on the butcher’s block and picked up the pan with the food in it.

The three of them walked across the hall to the dining room. The table had been set with the fine dishes. All the candles were lit, filling the room with a welcoming warm glow. Ayer eagerly pulled the chair at the end of the table out, allowing Miss Gertrude to sit first before he help slid her closer to the table. He settled into the seat on her left.

Gaspar set the heavy pan down, serving up food for everyone while Ayer poured glasses of wine for each of them. When everything was ready, Gaspar joined his family and they started to eat.

Most of the dinner was spent in silence with the exception of the soft sounds of silverware on the China and sips of wine. Gaspar was he first to break the silence.

“Mrs. Mathers, Geoffrey’s mother has taken ill again, I’m afraid.” Gaspar cut a piece of chicken away before tucking it in his cheek.

“Poor thing, she only seems to be getting worse these days.” Miss Gertrude took a sip of her wine.

Ayer remained quiet, his mind was elsewhere and it wasn’t hard for the other two to discern where. The older buck did his best to ignore it, sopping up some remnants with a crust of bread while Miss Gertrude poured him another glass of wine.

“Thank you dear,” He managed to push a mouthful aside long enough to respond.

“It seems the new harvest of berries will be hitting the market soon. You know what that means.” Gaspar chuckled.

“Berries, cream, and cake. Exactly what my waistline needs.”

“Lyrica loves berries and cream, I was telling her about those sweet cakes-”

“Do you think we can go one meal without hearing about Lyrica and the rainbows that fly out of her ass, please?” Gaspar’s eyebrows crooked sharply over his green eyes, though he didn’t look at Ayer.

Ayer’s eyes fell back to the food in front of him as he continued to eat in silence. Miss Gertrude could see the crest of his ear turning red. There was a storm brewing and all she wanted to do was avoid it.

Another few moments passed before Miss Gertrude spoke again. “Is your food good?”

Ayer took another bite, completely oblivious that she’s said anything to him. Gaspar took a deep breath and sighed out his frustrations. The auburn rat was quick to caress the back of his paw, trying to keep him calm.

Gaspar swallowed his mouthful of food and dabbed his mouth before speaking. “Boy, Miss Gertrude asked you a question.”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Nothing…it was nothing.” Miss Gertrude wiped her lips on her napkin before setting it beside her empty plate.

“I may regret this but where is your mind at, Ayer?” Gaspar rested his elbows on the table, leaning closer.

“I just have some things on my mind tonight.” Ayer’s voice grew soft against the older buck’s aggressive posturing.

“By things, you mean her, right?”

“Well, yeah, Lyrica’s very important to me and if she and I are going to have a life together, you’re going to have to accept us and our relationship.” Ayer’s voice spiked a few octaves higher as he pushed his plate away.

“Relationship, life together, do you even listen to yourself. You’re completely delusional about this romance that doesn’t exist.” Gaspar tried to choose his words reasonably to spare Ayer’s hurt feelings.

“Why are you being so unfair? She loves me.”

“Has she said before?”

Miss Gertrude gripped Gaspar’s paw tighter, she could feel his muscles tensing as she struggled to keep him from losing his cool.

“Well, not those exact words but that’s because I never give her a chance to say it first.” Ayer said smugly.

“Ayer, you’re living a fantasy. She’s a working girl, you pay her bills. You’re nothing more than another document to be filed, another sack of grain to be loaded into a cart.” Gaspar pulled his paw away, smoothing down the fur on the top of his head. “There’s no way she could love you, because she doesn’t work that way. If she falls in love, then the money stops rolling in.”

“Why are you being so unkind, she’s done nothing to you?” Ayer pushed away from the table and got to his hind paws. “There’s no need for you trash my dreams just because you squandered your chance at love on frivolous flights of fancy.”

“Ayer!” Miss Gertrude snapped but it was too late, Gaspar got to his feet.

“She is a whore, Ayer! All that matters to her is paying the bills.”

“You’re wrong!”

“Am I? Then you’ve left me no other choice than a hard lesson on this fact. Not another coin will I give you, so you can witness how fast her fire cools for you, once your well of money goes dry.”

“I’ll show you, old rat.” Ayer stormed out of the dining room, leaving Miss Gertrude alone.

“Fat chance of that, you little shit.” Gaspar snatched up the bottle of wine and hurried out of the room. Miss Gertrude could hear the front door slam.

“How was dinner, everyone?” She sighed softly before downing the rest of her wine, as well as Gaspar’s and Ayer’s.

Tears clung to her eyelashes causing the black mascara to run down her cheeks but she never fully gave into the sadness. Instead, she rose from the table, blew out the candles and headed to the larder. She plucked a bottle of Gaspar’s finest wine before retreating to her bedroom for the night.

***

Ayer was so infuriated that he’d not noticed the shadow following him as he stormed boldly along the street. His legs ached; his stomach churned from hunger and frustration. There was only one person that could make him feel better now.

The young rat ducked into the familiar crack in the wall. The red glow from the firelight behind the stained glass beckoned him in. The knock had become second nature to him now. The out of sync French national anthem was like a love song to him. Then the door opened and there she stood; her lovely eyes wide. All at once, his pain faded away.

“Ayer?”

“I need you,” Ayer whispered and took her paw. “I can’t go on another moment without your touch.”

“Oh, well, alright. Come on in, it’ll be fifty Francs.”

  “Well, I don’t actually have the money-”

“What?” She turned to face him.

“I mean right now. I forgot my pouch, so I don’t have any money, right now but I can get it tomorrow morning and drop it off with Patricia.” Ayer felt his gut churn from the look on her face.

Lyrica shook her head and contemplated this problem for a few seconds. It was hard to concentrate with Patricia, whose face was red from the drink, slept loudly on the pile of pillows nearby.

“Alright…I’m not supposed to do this but you’ve been really good with payments.” She played along the hem of his sweaty tunic. “But you have to bring the money directly to me in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah, I…I can get it.” Ayer sighed softly as he leaned in close.

  yrica pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head. “Not in here, come.”

Ayer slowed his pace in front of door three. He’d come to know it as Lyrica’s room. He was a little confused when she kept walking.

“Not in there, we’ve…there’s been an accident and it needs to be cleaned before it can be used again.”

Ayer’s heart sank deeper. He knew all too well why he couldn’t go in, she was a working girl after all and he hated that Gaspar may be right about her. But he was powerless when he looked at her beautiful face. She used her body to beckon him on blindly, leading him to the slaughter as if he were nothing more than another sheep. Lyrica pulled him into Patricia’s chambers, hanging a single red stocking from the handle before closing the door for the night.

***

Ayer was practically exhausted and stumbling by the time Gaspar found him. It wasn’t hard to guess where he was going. It was a road he seemed to travel all too often these days. Just ahead, the young buck disappeared into the crack that led to the Ruby Rose. Gaspar was half tempted to follow him all the way, to watch as he was rejected by the ‘love of his life’ but what good would that do? Especially while he stood in the street watching the one that he loved throw his life away on silly entertainments. Maybe that’s why the sting was all too real for him. Gaspar was as much a fool as the lad was, maybe even more so.

“Sir,”

Gaspar ignored the voice at first, downing a heavy gulp from the bottle of wine. That was when he felt a paw on his arm.

“Sir, do you have need of a scarf?”

“No!” He snapped harshly.

Gaspar turned to see a young buck roughly the same age as Ayer, standing next to him. The young buck’s accent was deeper than his smaller stature eluded too. His fur an uncanny blonde color that was almost similar to Ayer’s. If it wasn’t for the white spot over his right eye, the niche missing from his ear, and deeper voice, they could almost be the same rat.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I’m just trying to earn some money for my mother and sister.

“No, my apologies young buck. I didn’t mean to speak so harshly.” Gaspar’s voice lingered in his throat as his eyes took in the sight of Ayer’s Doppelganger.

“It’s alright. It’s late and I shouldn’t be out bothering folks at this hour.” The lad started off across the road.

“Wait, why don’t you tell me about your scarves, Monsieur…”

“Monsieur, not likely, I’m just plain Toby.” He spoke earnestly and smiled.

“Very well, plain Toby,”

The lad giggled sweetly and Gaspar felt a tingle deep down inside. It stole his breath and his composure for a second.

“How much are you asking for one of your scarfs?”

“Well, I made them with my own two paws, so I can guarantee the quality. Is two Francs too much to ask?” Toby laid out four scarves along his arm.

They were indeed woven to perfectly, better than most he’d seen and they shown brilliantly against his dingy mustard colored tunic and brown trousers that were more holes than fabric.

“Just two, huh,” Gaspar fished ten Francs from his pouch and passed them over. “I’ll take all four.”

“Truly sir, you will?” The lad looked at the coins in his paw and paused. “You gave me too much, sir.”

“First of all, you have to stop calling me ‘sir’. My name is Gaspar.” Gaspar gripped the lad’s shoulders tightly. “Secondly, the craftsmanship and colors are beautiful. I’d be a fool if I passed up this purchase and a chance to tip the lad doing all the work.”

“Why thank you, s- Gaspar.” He chuckled foolishly and pocketed the money.

“No, thank you.” Gaspar took the scarves, wrapping one around his neck, while folding the others under his arm. “Toby, my lad, what if I told you I knew of a way for you to make tons of money for your family. It will be hard work but comes with lots of perks.”

“I would say; that’s a funny one, si – eh…Gaspar, then I’d laugh.”

“Oh, it’s true, my lad. Come back to my house with me and I’ll fill you in on all the details.” Gaspar wrapped his arm around the young buck’s shoulders as they started back towards his home.

“Will there be food involved?” The boy asked.

“Oh yes, you name it. Food, clothing, a bath, there will be enough for both of us to enjoy.”

“It sounds lovely.” The lad sighed dreamily.

“Oh, I think you’re really going to like it.” Gaspar whispered against the lad’s ear. “It’ll be a character building exercise for sure. I just have one question for you, can you make your voice higher in pitch for me.”

“I suppose so, with some practice at least.”

“Well then, practice away.”


	8. Poker Face

Patricia stood at the counter. One by one, she lifted each of the twelve pouches from the basket and lined them up by color, mentally reciting the names with the colors; amber for Aubrey, lavender for Lyrica, moss for Marcie, pink for Patricia.

Once that was done, she unrolled each of the record parchments in reverse alphabetical orders so Aubrey, the dark furred mouse, was on top. There was a system for these things, her predecessor told her several years ago and that’s how she did it.

The long evening of counting, dividing, writing, and documenting every Franc earned, making sure every doe got paid and every debtor dealt with. It was a thankless job that needed to be done and the only time, Patricia ever thought that earning money on her back was much easier than dealing with the never ending pile of paperwork. Worst of all, no drop of alcohol could touch her lips until she was done. There was no need to chance a financial mistake that might cost her dearly in the long run.

“Doing the books?” Lyrica asked nervously as she chewed one of her claws.

“Yes I’m afraid; it’s that wonderful time of the month again.” Patricia smiled wearily.

“You could always put it off.” Lyrica giggled and took a bottle from behind the counter.

Patricia gripped her paw on the cork and smiled. “Oh child, you care for me so dearly. Unfortunately, this is the one bit of work only I can do and it wouldn’t do well to shirk it lest we all end up out on our tails. Now get yourself cleaned up, dear, we’re done for the night.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lyrica nodded. She poured herself a drink and took it with her as she went.

Hours passed as Patricia poured over names and number, counting each little coin out perfectly. She divided their worth by the base price scribble in the corner of the ledger. Aubrey. sixty-five, Marcie, eighty, Patricia, one-hundred and sixty, each time reminding herself that they were friends, does just like her and not just numbers. The clanking of coins made it hard to remember, sometimes.

“Merde,” She sighed. “This can’t be right?”

Patricia looked at the list of numbers on the parchment, then at the notes scribbled on the corner of the pages. There were always small discrepancies in the filing, a Franc here, two there, but nearly fifty-one shy of the amount.

Patricia poured over the registries again one by one and counted them out. Four bucks a night per girl, six on the weekends. Returning customer’s names had stars next to them. It wasn’t until her eyes found a name out of place. “Reay”, he was the fifth visitor for Lyrica and the handwriting on the line wasn’t hers. It was…

The door burst open with such a start, Lyrica dropped her wine glass. It shattered on the floor, spilling wine across the worn rug. Patricia stormed into the room and Lyrica could see the gathering of does behind her disappear as the door slammed shut. Lyrica’s heart felt as if it were going to tear through her chest and judging by the fire in Patricia’s eyes, it would be a far more pleasant punishment than what was coming.

“Tell me a story, Lyrica,”

“I can explain, I-” Lyrica didn’t get to finish before Patricia’s paw sent her to the floor.

Lyrica covered her eye and started to crawl away but Patricia grabbed her by the ear and cuffed her hard across the muzzle.

“You can explain how you lied to me?” Patricia’s voice cracked with rage. “I thought you were just being sweet to me, no, you’re being a fucking sneak.” The third hit sent Lyrica reeling onto her back.

 I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.”

 “I rescued you from your filthy, flea bitten father. I raised you, took care of you. You weighed nothing, you ate nothing. I built your body into a temple and made you rich with it and this…this is the thanks I get. And you did it all for what, a fun little roll in the sheets with your lover boy Ayer. ‘Oh take me away on your borrowed steed’. ” Patricia clutched her paw and Lyrica curled up in anticipation for the next hit. “No,” Lyrica sobbed. “It was nothing like that.”

“Liar!”

Luckily, this hit bounced Lyrica’s head off the mattress and not the floor, still her cheek ached from the strike and she could taste blood in her mouth this time. The inside of her mouth shredded against her teeth.

“He was supposed to come back and pay in the morning.” Lyrica sobbed as she got to her hands and knees, blood drooling from her mouth. “He promised but he didn’t come. I…was a fool to trust him. I was a fool for not telling you…please, I’m sorry.”

Patricia face soften as she fell to her knees next to the pool of doe she’d put there. “You were a fool,” She said softly, almost motherly. “But we’re all fools at one point or another. You’re not special.”

Patricia grabbed her chin firmly and lifted Lyrica’s face to look at her. Lyrica started crying harder, more out of fear than pain.

“Let this be a lesson to you, Lyrica,” Patricia’s words seeped poison. “You can trust a buck as much as you can trust a mouse trap. Keep your distance and leave them alone, no harm will come to you. Get too close…and it’ll break more than your heart.”

Patricia pushed Lyrica’s face away roughly and got to her feet. “There will be no stipend for you this week and you will not work for two more as punishment. I hope you saved enough to keep you fed.”

The sandy blonde rat pulled the door open before looking back at her. “And Lyrica, if I see Ayer here ever again, Bartrand will kill him, of that you have my word.”

When she closed the door, the other does were quick to disperse as if they’d seen nothing. Though, they’d all been that fool once; twice for some. Marcie clutched her face as if an old wound came to call upon her.

“Let take a moment to remember our lessons, all of you.” Patricia announced. “This is a place of business, not fancy. Marcie, clean her up and let her know that mother knows best.”

“Yes ma’am.” The white rat hurried into the room to tend to Lyrica.

***

Mr. Mathers sat atop the stool and sipped the fine lemon tea that Miss Gertrude made for him while he waited. Ayer sat next to him, enjoying a crumb of bread with cream on it. They’d been talking and joking for the past twenty minutes or so and now were settling into a familiar silence.

“Were you in the war?” Ayer asked.

“Oh yes, two actually. I was but a snot-nosed pinkie my first time around, though. I spent more time gathering medical supplies and reloading rifles than I actually saw combat.” Mr. Mathers' British accent rolled clumsily off his tongue.

“I’d imagine is quite scary.” Miss Gertrude scrapped a little more sugar into her cup, stirring it with a dainty whirl of her finger.

“Yeah, there were times I thought death himself was waiting behind every bush.”

“It sounds terrible.” Ayer pushed some bread to his cheek so he could talk and eat at the same time.

“Not all of it. Like, I remember my days as a Liner, good god were we fierce. Cap’n Jean-Luc, what an officer he was. God damnest thing I ever saw was when he used himself as bait on a rat trap, snapped that kitties’ nose clean off he did.”

“You’re telling stories.” Miss Gertrude scoffed but kept her smile.

“Not in the slightest. Seriously, Jean-Luc brought it back to us and passed it off to Remy as a gift.” Mr. Mathers’ gestured to Ayer before taking a drink of his tea.

“Remy? That was my dad’s name.”

“Yep.”

Ayer’s smile faded away almost immediately, his look was mirrored in Miss Gertrude’s face. They both stared at Mr. Mathers for a long moment as he finished the last of his tea. It wasn’t until that moment that Mr. Mathers cleared his throat and grabbed for his hat.

“It’s getting a tad late, I suppose I’ll stop back by tomorrow for my payment. You all have a lovely evening.” Mr. Mathers slipped down from his stool.

“Wait? My father was Liner, did you serve with him?”

“I-”

“He did, Mr. Mathers served before, during, and after my term in the military. Isn’t that right, old boy?” Gaspar stepped into the room. The firelight cast a warm glow on the white fur of his bare chest.

He took a long drag off of his cigarette and blew the smoke up towards Mr. Mathers. “Geoffrey, my lad, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” He passed a folded piece of paper to the taller rat.

“Oh, yes, I was just leaving. It’s near time for mum’s dinner.” Mr. Mathers tucked the paper inside his coat.

“Then you best be off. As always, it’s a pleasure to see you.” It was hard to miss the chill in the black and white rat’s voice.

“Sir,” Mr. Mathers nodded graciously and then regarded the other two rats before hurrying into the hall.

“Gaspar?” Miss Gertrude was clearly shocked to see him. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I snuck in about an hour ago. I had a headache, so company was right out.” Gaspar picked up Ayer’s tea cup and drained it.

“Did Mr. Mathers really know my dad?”

“I don’t know; Mr. Mathers is awfully fond of the drink, so it’s hard to take anything he says a face value.” Gaspar sat down on the stool Mathers had previously occupied.

“Unkind and ornery tonight aren’t you?” Miss Gertrude smirked.

“Tired of dealing with his problems more like it,” Gaspar pinched the bridge of his muzzle.

“Did you know my dad?” Ayer pressed the issue again, his voice suspicious.

“For god sake, Ayer, let it go, please. Just one night I would like to engage with you both without feeling like the inquisition knocking down my door.”

Miss Gertrude knocked a teacup over out of surprise by the outburst. “Gaspar?”

“I can’t believe you’re acting like this! Months I’ve been here and not once have I talked about my family and the first time I do, it’s too inconvenient for you. Go to hell old rat, I’m leaving.” Ayer shook his head and started for the door.

“Off to see your whore again.” Gaspar chided.

“Yeah, at least she cares about what I have to say.” Ayer stormed out of the kitchen.

Gaspar was out of his seat and rounding the butcher’s blocks in pursuit. “One of these days, you’re going to see how wrong you are and I will revel in it. So enjoy this ignorance while it lasts.” Gaspar turned and kicked one of the stools against the wall, splintering the leg. “Stupid brat!”

“Gaspar De Laurente,” Miss Gertrude popped off this time, her paws clenched in anger. “You need to calm down and stop acting like a child.”

“Me? What about him? All I wanted was a simple moment of peace and he just had to keep asking questions about them.”

“Them?”

“Oh, don’t you start too.” Gaspar pointed a finger in her face. “You know I meant his parents.”

“Gaspar, they just died. It’s not even been a year. He’s been such a good boy by not letting his grief tear him apart. The least…and I mean the very least you can do is entertain his need to come to terms with it.”

“So you’re on his side then?” Gaspar put his paws on his hips.

“There are no sides, just a family hell bent on tearing each other a part and I’m stuck in the middle. I just want things to go back the way they were.” Miss Gertrude touched his chest, looking up at him pleadingly.

“I regret you both.” Gaspar’s eyes filled with tears as he backed away. “I regret it all.” He stormed out of the room, leaving Miss Gertrude disheveled and near tears.

Gaspar walked into his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, locking it. His heart was racing in his chest, throbbing once again in his head. He could feel the knots forming in his shoulders as if he were carrying the weight of the world.

The black and white rat could hear something moving on his bed, behind the curtains. He could hear the soft sound of breathing and fabric shifting. Then the curtains parted and a young blonde figure slipped out. He was naked and beautiful. His young body was perfection to the eye, everything from his small soft feet, to his uncircumcised cock, all the way up to his soft pink ears. The only item of clothing he wore was a burgundy scarf tied over his right eye.

“Oh Ayer,” Gaspar whispered and traced a paw hungrily along his suddenly dried lips. “How are you feeling tonight?”

Before the blonde rat could answer, Gaspar swept in and pulled him close. He had to crane his neck down upon the smaller rat. Their lips met in a well-rehearsed kiss. Gaspar pushed his tongue deep into the lad’s mouth. His fingers roamed along the lad’s soft fur to cup his rounded hip pulling him closer.

When they parted the kiss, Gaspar traced a finger along the lad’s face. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, turning the rat’s face so he could see the part that wasn’t covered by the scarf.

“Please sir, I’m hungry and thirsty.” The voice was nauseatingly deep. It was enough to cause Gaspar to reel away.

“Toby, we talked about this.” The disappointment was thick in his voice, as he passed the lad a bottle from the drawer of his dresser. “If you want me to keep sending those payment notes to your mother and sister, you best stay in character.”

Toby drank the stout wine in sips, reeling each time he did. “It hurts my throat.”

Gaspar snatched the bottle away and shoved the blonde rat back onto the bed. “You accepted this job knowing full well what was required of you. You back talk me one more time and I will thrash you so badly, your mother will bleed.”

“I’m sorry,” Toby’s voice squeaked as it went up a few octaves. “Sir.”

Gaspar set the bottle down and smiled warmly. “That’s better,”

The older rat fell upon him on the bed, pinning his paws above their heads. “Oh my beautiful baby boy.”

Toby squirmed and swallowed hard. He knew what was coming and was forcing down his feelings, trying to cut away any connection he had to this world. As much as he hated it, he was getting paid good money for this and it was time for him to go to work.

***

The bottle was drained into Toby’s head, no Ayer’s head, the blonde rat reminded himself. Gaspar forced himself to keep his breathing labored. He kept head down to watch the soft blonde curve of the lad’s hips beneath his fingertips. He loved the way his paws looked grabbing and pulled him back, driving deeper inside of him, only to push him away and repeat the motion all over again.

Every time he did; he entertained Ayer’s name in his mind. It made it hard to keep his breathing under control. It made it difficult to keep from cumming the moment he mounted the young buck. It was, after all, about the journey as much as the destination; he’d teased himself in the back of his mind.

Toby buried his face as far into the feather-down pillow as he could. His arms hugging it around his ears, so he didn’t have to hear the sound of the old rat’s grunts. His head was heavy with the wine that Gaspar forced him to drink. His tongue still coated with the taste of the old rat’s dick.

It all drifted away with the dull pain in his lower groin. It still pulsed, a reminder of the first few times he tried to fight the stronger male’s advances. It was inevitable; after all, this was his job now. Play the role of the stranger known as ‘Ayer’. As vindictive as it was, Toby cried at night, wishing he could trade places with his doppelganger, anything to stop this daily torture.

“Oh, Ayer…” Gaspar moaned; it was his telltale sign that the moment of triumph was close. Then Toby could go back to being ignored until the want arose again.

The pain in his gut grew harsher. Gaspar was starting buck more violently than he had in the past. Toby gasped and pulled his face from the pillow.

“You’re- you’re hurting me.” He cried.

His face was shoved back into the pillow harshly, a paw pinning him there. “Goddammit, Toby. What. Did. I. Tell. You.” Each word was punctuated with a violent thrust.

Gaspar’s thought died in his throat, stifled by a deep moan. Toby felt a new sickness in his gut as could feel the old rat’s shame swelling inside of his groin, dripping down the insides of his thigh onto the duvet. The black and white rat followed it up with a few more shuttering thrusts milked him of everything he had to give to the lad.

When the paw slipped away from the back of his head, Toby remained there, starting to cry, more from his own degradation than the pain. But both were just as bad. When he felt the sweet release of Gaspar’s dismount, he fell on his side and curled up tightly.

“Stop crying!” Gaspar grabbed the scarf from his face and used it to wipe his dick off before throwing it back in the Toby’s face. “You only have yourself to blame.”

Toby didn’t say anything; he just slapped the scarf away and fought to keep his tears in until the old rat left.

“You almost fucked that one up, my boy. Another stunt like that and you’ll get nothing! Do you hear me?” Gaspar looked away from the white spot of fur on the lad’s face as he pulled his trousers on, tying them.

“Yes…sir.” Toby’s voice cracked, threatening to go back to his normal voice but he struggled to keep up the façade.

Gaspar fished a few coins from his purse and tossed them on the crumpled duvet, next to the blonde rat. “Take that, and go have the clothier dye that thing on your face…it makes you look ugly.”

Gaspar unlocked the door before looking back at the lad, who hadn’t moved. “And Toby, remember if you don’t come back, I know where you live.” Gaspar said sweetly before stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Toby took the coins in one shaky paw. “Yes sir,” Ayer’s voice faltered as he started to sob into the pillow once again.


	9. Take Me as I Am

There was a chill in the air and rain wasn’t far off. It only worked to push Ayer’s pace faster as he made his way through the streets towards the Ruby Rose.

He’d only felt around in his pouch a half a dozen times, counting the coins as he went. He had enough coin to pay for his last visit that he failed to bring. He even managed to take a few coins from Miss Gertrude’s top dresser drawer for another night, since Gaspar was still being stingy.

By the time the first drop of rain fell, Ayer barely made it inside the crack that led him to the all too familiar door, where he knocked with a confident flurry. There was a long pause from inside. So much time passed that Ayer felt he should knock again, what if no one heard him? When he went to knock, he heard the lock inside turn.

The door opened and a familiar face appeared but there was something different that the young buck couldn’t miss. Lyrica’s bottom lip and her left eye were blackened and swollen. When she saw him, her good eye grew misty and she started trembling.

“Ayer, I can’t see you anymore. You need to leave.”

“Wait, I just…what happened to you?” Ayer stammered as he took a step forward, she stopped him with a flat paw hard against his chest.

“You happened, with your sweet face and your needs, your desperate wants, your promises that you don’t keep.” Lyrica’s voice grew frenzied, tears starting running down her cheek. “Because of you, I had to be taught a lesson. Now, leave, you have to go!”

“But I have the money I promised, all of it and more.” Ayer held out his pouch to her. “I just really need you right now, please.”

Patricia shoved Lyrica out of the way, grabbing the pouch from Ayer. “You can’t bewitch her with whatever you pass off as charm nowadays. You’re a liar and a user and you’re not welcome here anymore. Now get out of here before I make you regret you ever existed.”

Patricia shoved the young buck hard enough that he fell back against the stained glass panel behind him. It shattered under his weight. He smashed the candle and sending him into darkness. The door’s slam echoed in his head even over the thundering of his heart in his ears.

Ayer felt a fire ignite inside of him as he threw himself against the door, slamming his fists into the wood until his knuckles burned and his wrists ached.

“You can’t keep us apart! I won’t let you.” He kicked the door hard enough to rattle the hinges. “I love her and I tear this door down to prove it.”

The door snapped open and a large black rat filled the frame. He closed one large paw around Ayer’s throat, choking his words away. He her could hear Lyrica crying from somewhere beyond the mound of rat that was now dragging him back through the crack towards the street.

“Make sure he lives long enough to learn his lesson, Bartrand.” Ayer heard Patricia say before a white flash filled his eyes.

The giant rat punched him hard enough to put an ocean behind his vision. Ayer’s body grew limp in his clutches.

When they came out of the darkness, the rain spattered his face and felt good for a moment. Even the brightness of the moon peeking out from behind a cloud was a beautiful sight in spite of the throbbing in his face. Soon his vision was filled by blackness and another bright flash. This time, the teeth in the back of his mouth shook and he crumpled to the cold wet ground. It felt surprisingly good, considering the situation.

“Never come back,” Lyrica’s voice echoed from the crack and a new pain filled him now.

“You heard the lady, kid,” The big rat grunted. “Come back and I’ll make sure they never find your body.” Then his black shadow disappeared, leaving him lying alone on the cold wet ground.

Ayer lay there for a long time. Warm blood filled his sinuses, his head still spinning like a top. There was even a ringing in his ears that blocked out that he was crying. At least he thought he was crying. It was really hard to tell with how bad he was hurting both inside and out.

The young buck sniffled and winced at the tenderness in his nose.  He quietly prayed that death would come for him but knew that wasn’t the way things worked. If he could survive his families’ death, then he could survive this.

Slowly, he rolled over and pushed himself up. A dizzy sensation filled his head, making him nauseous but he did a good job keeping it down. When he was finally upright, he started walking back home. For a moment, he considered everything and came to the conclusion that the worse part of all of this was that Gaspar had been right all along. It was going to be a hard pill to swallow.

***

 It was early in the morning and Gaspar was sitting at the butcher’s block with Miss Gertrude. She’d been up for hours worrying about Ayer despite Gaspar’s constant reminder that Ayer had come home at later hours than this before.

She’d been very surprised when the old rat visited her in her bedchamber with a bottle of wine and an apology. Gaspar even wooed her into a slow dance by the fire, which he hadn’t done since before she was twenty. There was a youthful glow about the rat that left her physically stunned and a little more than wanting. Though, he never made an advance on her, instead they drank and talked into the long hours. Now they sat in the kitchen like old friends catching up.

“I am very hard on him.” Gaspar dipped his finger in his hot tea before sucking it.

“I know it’s because you care but he really needs you right now.” Miss Gertrude caressed the back of the old rat’s paw.

“You’re ri-” Gaspar stopped talking when he heard the front door open. “Welcome home!” He snickered.

Then they heard the stress in Ayer’s voice. “Gerdy, Gaspar.”

“In here.” Miss Gertrude called out before Gaspar could.

Ayer stepped into the room, soaked to the bone, his face swollen and bloody. It was such a ghastly sight that Miss Gertrude nearly screamed. She stifled herself by cupping her muzzle. Gaspar was up in an instant and at the young buck’s side.

“What happened?” He asked. “Gerdy, help me get his shirt off before he catches his death.”

Miss Gertrude was already in motion with a towel and a warm bowl of water. Gaspar had the lad’s shirt up and off by the time she made it them. Seeing how frantically they worked to take care of him, left Ayer moved. It was then that he succumbed to a fresh wave of tears.

Gaspar pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Easy my sweet baby boy, it’s alright.”

Ayer pushed his face into the taller rat’s chest and sobbed. It was so bad that Miss Gertrude was in tears too. Even Gaspar felt a lump form in his throat as he pet the wet fur on Ayer’s back.

“It’s okay.” She whispered and caressed the back of his neck with a warm wet cloth.

“Tell me what happened?” Gaspar whispered in his ear.

“You were right about her,” Ayer gripped the old rat’s shoulders. “You were right all along.”

Gaspar didn’t need clarification; he knew all too well who the younger buck was talking about. With the young buck’s disheveled demeanor, Gaspar couldn’t even enjoy that fact that he was so right. Instead it made him feel terrible for even wishing this resolve in the first place.

Through a quivering voice, Ayer told them both what happened to him. He told them about Lyrica’s face and Patricia’s threats. But when he started talking about the large brutish rat, that’s when Gaspar’s breath became ragged. His paws clenched to white knuckles, his teeth threatened to shatter under the pressure of his clenched jaw.

“What…he did what? She called her guard dog on you? Not one hair, not one hair will be harm on that boy’s head.” Gaspar marched towards the door, grabbing a cane from the cane holder just inside the hallway. “Miss Gertrude, tend to Ayer. Give him anything and everything he needs while I’m gone.”

“Where are you going, Gaspar?”

“Just do as I say!” Gaspar charged out into the night, slamming the door behind him as he went.

Miss Gertrude took Ayer’s paw and pulled him into the hallway with her. “Come to my room, I’ll get you warm and comfortable.”

They walked into her room; it was warm from the embers in the wood burning stove. The light from her oil lamp on her nightstand cast the room with dark flickering shadows. The auburn doe was quick to throw the blankets back, holding out a paw to him. He wiped his sore eye gently and came to her without a word.

“Come; let’s get out you out of those wet trousers.” She whispered.

There was something about his wounded innocence in the glow of the firelight that sent a flutter through her heart. She missed taking care of him when he was out. It was a secret that she kept to herself.

When he got close, she reached for the band of his trousers. At that moment; Ayer cradled her face in his paws and pulled their lips to meet. Miss Gertrude’s eyes drifted closed at the feeling of his soft lips against hers. Their bucked teeth shifted in a fashion that didn’t interfere with the longing depth of their kiss. All the while, their tongues playfully beckoned the others to make a move.

Miss Gertrude greedily wanted to check to see if the buck was enjoying this kiss as much as she was. Her fingers hesitated at the band of his trousers, not wanting to push this moment past the point of his comfort. It was after all, one of the things she desired most since they’d met.

Ayer wasn’t as aloof about his needs; brashly he caressed the mound of her breast through the soft silks of her nightgown. A light moan escaped her mouth into his and it only worked to push his point. One paw gripped her rounded backside and pulled her tightly to him.

There was the truth she sought. She felt his hard length pressed against her belly through his pants. It caused the flutter in her heart to vibrate all the way through her. Her ears pulsed warmly with her excited blush.

Ayer pulled from the kiss, leaving her head craned up and her mouth open as if he’d never left. A sheepish feeling washed through her as she pushed her face into the warmth of his chest fur.

“Is this alright?” Ayer whispered, his breath wisped against the fur between her ears.

“Oh yes…so much so.” She kissed up his chest to his neck. “This is all I ever wanted.”

“What?” Ayer whispered looking into her eyes.

“I said…Gaspar told me to give you everything you wanted.” She paused, her body quivering. “And do you want me?”

Ayer nodded and leaned into kiss her again and she eagerly accepted. Her paws working his trousers down as she pushed him back onto the bed. He lay back and grunted as his head sloshed heavily, a small pang of pain returned. It disappeared the moment she pulled her gown off and fell onto the bed next to him.

There was a silly childishness about how she shifted her body up on all fours. Her rounded backside was a sweet sight in the dull glow of the lantern. Ayer chuckled in spite of the burning urge in his loins. Though when their eyes met, he could see that she was serious about this. The soft glow in her brown eyes caused his heart to shudder.

“Take me as I am, Ayer, for this is all I am and I’m all yours?” Her words brought him up on his knees behind her.

Miss Gertrude closed her eyes, ready to take him. To feel his closeness that she longed for was enough to steal her breath away. Then she was rolled onto her back, her eyes opened wide looking up at him. Her legs falling open on either side of him; he was dangerously close to her now.

“I want to see your face...” Ayer whispered warmly, the prospect never dawned on her that it would matter to him so much.

The two times she’d ever had sex with anyone was with Gaspar and both times were in the mating fashion. Her heart pounded harder in her chest the closer he got. The feeling of his fingers petting up her hip was like a fuse being lit, threatening to ignite her in his paws. She licked her lips to stifle the already growing moan.

“Me too.” She whispered, her voice cracked under her nervous excitement.

Ayer fell upon her, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss that succeeded in stealing her breath away. It was clear that he had more experience than her but it didn’t matter, just having him so close was all she needed.

Miss Gertrude’s fingers clawed down his back, pulling at his hips. If it ever seemed as though he were pulling too far away, she was quick to pull him back in. The deeper he pushed, the more that tingling grew inside of her. This feeling was different; she’d never experienced it with Gaspar. He’d been far too drunk to pace himself. Gentle as he was, it was only two minutes of uneven thrusting and then, they’d lay in a mass of sweat and fluids.

With Ayer it was different; she could hear him pacing his breath. He slowed the roll of his hips if he started shaking too much. His soft noises were sweet against her neck. Each thrust brought another from him and worked to cause another moan from her. The tingling grew deeper, engulfing her with warmth.

“I’m close.” Ayer whispered, into her neck.

Miss Gertrude smiled and kissed his check. “Do it.”

The auburn doe was quick the shift her paw between them, her fingers working the swollen nub of her clit amidst the mess of soaked pubic fur and tender flesh. She teased and flicked it in time with his quickening thrusts. The desperate noises in the back of his throat were pitched and sweet, luring her closer to her own finality. Then he gasped and pushed as deeply into her as she could but she felt nothing of it. The feeling was lost to her rapturous climax. His uncontrolled bucking worked in tandem with her rippling pleasure.

“Oh Ayer,” She whined, adding more pressure to herself by pulling him closer.

“Gert-” He kissed her neck roughly to stifle his own mewling moans.

Ayer relaxed his body on top of her and she took his weight, welcoming him. Soft kisses were traced up his neck to the lobe of his round ear. He chuckled weakly and pushed his muzzle to hers clumsily. When he did try to roll off of her, she held him tight.

“Just stay a moment longer.” She pleaded.

He didn’t say anything; he just kissed her neck and held his muzzle there breathing in her sweet scent. The soft sound of his breath soothed her. She kissed his shoulder and buried her nose in the fur. A smile came to her lips at the realization that she could smell him, the real him that she’d smelt a long time ago when he lay asleep in his bed and she took care of him. But the thing that made her smile the most was her scent was all over him and they mingled so naturally together.

“I love you, Ayer.” She whispered.

Ayer moaned a questioning response sleepily but she didn’t repeat it. Miss Gertrude knew what she’d said and that was going to be enough for tonight. The rest could wait until morning.


	10. Bump in the Night

Miss Gertrude continued to pick a few crumbs up from off the floor, tossing them into the wastebasket. She stopped and smiled at Ayer as he walked in the kitchen. There was a sleepy look in his eyes and he yawned scratching under the hem of his pajama shirt.

 “Are you coming back to bed?”

“Yes, here in a few moments. I thought I heard someone bumping around in here and came to investigate.” Miss Gertrude leaned the broom against the corner.

Ayer could see the concern in her eyes. “He’ll be back; this isn’t the first time he’s gone away at length.”

“That was for business, though. It’s been three days since he stormed out of here half crazed without any word. What if he was arrested or worse? I’m just worried about him.”

“I’m worried too.” Ayer pulled her close and gave her a soft peck on the lips.

They looked at each other for a long moment and he took her paw, leading her into the hallway. Miss Gertrude followed with a playful smile on her face. She stepped down on another crust of bread crunching it into the wood. She scoffed and scooped up as much as she could before tossing it away.

“I know I didn’t leave this type of mess after dinner. There are crumbs all over the place. This morning I found a broken wine glass. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we had rats but that’s no different than any other day.” Miss Gertrude giggled at her own joke.

Ayer chuckled and sighed as he looked at her. The look was a special kind that she loved to have him look at her like. The look as though she was the only one in the world that mattered to him. She took his paw again and kissed the back of it.

 “I don’t know if Gaspar will allow us to keep seeing each other like this once he gets home.” Ayer whispered. The implication of his words still felt foreign in his mind. This strange new feeling he had for Miss Gertrude caused a painful pang of guilt in his heart as if he were betraying Lyrica.

“Perhaps we can all be together.” Jealousy rolled through Miss Gertrude’s at the suggestion.

“What do you mean?”

“He fancies you, you know? I can see it in the way he looks at you.” She whispered softly, a flutter rolling through her stomach as he kissed her paws.

“I’d say I was lying if I hadn’t thought about it before.” Ayer blushed at his own confession. “Sometimes when he hugs me and kisses my cheek. I get the same lingering feel I get when you do it. If I wasn’t so afraid…”

 “Maybe you should give in next time. Gaspar, well, let’s just say he’s - he’ll be gentle.” Miss Gertrude’s smiles slipped a little but she knew if this was the only way they could be together than it would be worth the sacrifice.

“These are thoughts for another day. Come on, let’s get back to bed.” Ayer pulled her along so fast that she barely had enough time to blow out lantern on the wall as she passed.

As they walked back to her bedroom, they heard a soft bump coming from somewhere down the hall towards Gaspar’s bedroom. Miss Gertrude lingered in the hall for a second, looking at the darkness. Then her gaze met Ayers.

“He leaves his window open, maybe I should close it.” Miss Gertrude hurried to the door, turning to see if Ayer was still in the hall watching over her.

The Auburn rat admonished herself for being so frightened of the things that go bump in the night. It was such a childish way to be. When she reached the door, she turned the handle slowly but the door didn’t budge. Of course, she sighed inwardly. Gaspar locks his door when he leaves. She was quick to turn around and start back towards her room at a quick pace. She was so frightened; she didn’t even turn around just in case a spook was following her. She just hurried into the room and closed the door behind them.

***

There it was again, Ayer opened his eyes when he heard it. It sounded like the patter of feet outside the door. He looked over to see Miss Gertrude sleeping soundly next to him. If it wasn’t her, than someone else was in the house with them.

Ayer slipped out of bed as quietly as possible. There was no reason to disturb Miss Gertrude if he didn’t have to. When he reached the door, he opened it as quietly as possible and slipped out into the hall.

 The young buck pricked his ears and listened. There wasn’t a sound to be heard but he was sure there was someone walking around a second ago. Ayer took a deep breath and sighed, that’s when he smelled it, something familiar. Cigarette tobacco could only mean one thing. That was when he heard the slosh of water coming from the bathroom close by. Ayer smiled and hurried towards the sound.

When Ayer stepped into the bathroom, he saw two familiar paws gripping the edge of the tub, Gaspar’s whole body and head were submerged and a gentle ripple of bubbles rose from his muzzle. Gaspar surfaced with a loud splash and took a deep breath, his green eyes opening to the world as if he were just being reborn.

“Good morning, old rat.” Ayer spoke sweetly.

Gaspar jolted at the voice and turned to look at him. “Hello my boy.” His voice was tired and his eyes were heavy but he still managed a warm smile.

“You’ve been gone for a while.” Ayer leaned against the door frame, hugging his half naked body against the chill in the room.

“Come in, close the door.” Gaspar got up from the tub. “I’ll stoke the fire so we can get warmed up.”

Ayer did as he was told, closing the door behind him. He watched Gaspar use the poker to manipulate the metal hatch on the wood burning stove. There was some precision behind the tactic. He tossed a few small logs on top of the embers and gave them few sharp pokes to spread the glow around.

“There, should be plenty warm soon.” Gaspar’s voice remained as warm as the fire.

Ayer heard the soft musing of Miss Gertrude in the back of his mind as he let his eyes roam the older buck’s body. He plucked a towel from the squat shelves and embraced Gaspar with it.

“You’re such a good boy, Ayer.” Gaspar caressed the dark mark around his eye from where he’d been hit.

“Not lately I haven’t…”Ayer pushed his cheek into the cold wet paw.

“Shh.” Gaspar hushed him and pressed his lips to the lad’s.

Ayer felt his breath leave his body at the rat’s bold move. How easily Gaspar manipulated his smaller body to press him against the wall. Ayer yielded to the more dominate rat’s ability in deepening the kiss. The taste of wine on Gaspar’s tongue was warm and oddly welcoming. It soothed Ayer into his advances.

The feeling of the older buck’s hard length pressed against his belly through the towel startled him at first but it also excited at the same time. He could feel himself growing hard under the attention of the older buck.

When Gaspar pulled away from the kiss, they both panted and bumped their muzzles together. The black and white rat couldn’t take his eyes off of the young buck.

“I don’t-”

“I can’t fight my feelings for you anymore. I need you, Ayer; it’s always been you that I’ve wanted.” Gaspar panted desperately. It was the first time he’d ever seen the older buck in such a state.

“I’m nervous.”

Gaspar pecked his lips and slowly sunk down to his knees in front of his ward. “Don’t be…I’ll be exceedingly gentle. You have my word.”

The feeling of Gaspar’s skilled tongue enveloped Ayer’s entire length. He bobbed in a slow rhythmic fashion, teasing the pull away, only to reward the lad by taking him in fully. It didn’t take long from Ayer to grow completely taut and even less time for him to start making those sweet noises he made. When the young buck got over excited, he started thrusting his hips. Gaspar was quick to press a paw to his lap, pushing him back against the wall, ensuring that the lad let him work.

***

Was that a knock at the door, at this hour? Miss Gertrude moaned and pushed the pillow away from her face. That’s when she heard the knock again. A soft knock as if someone was tenuous about knocking in the first place.

“Ayer,” She whispered before rolling over to find him gone. “Where did you go?” She whispered, slipping out of bed. Her paws tingled from the cool wooden floor.

Another knock at the door made it apparent that Ayer was busy elsewhere and wasn’t going to answer it. Who could it be at this ungodly hour? Miss Gertrude mumbled inwardly. It had better be important; she finished her thought as she hurried out into the hallway.

The final knock came right as she reached the door. She pulled it open just enough to look out. She was surprised to see Mr. Mathers filling the doorway. His eyes darted around nervously and his mouth was pulled down into an unbecoming frown.

 “Miss Gertrude, where’s Mr. Ayer?”

“I know now, is there something I can help you with?” Miss Gertrude pulled the door open.

“I really need to talk to you both but…if he’s indisposed at the moment.” Mr. Mathers grabbed her shoulder; his fingers were cold and trembling.

 “What is it?”

“Something terrible has happened at the Ruby Rose.” His face grew dim.

“What?”

“Grab your coat, ma’am, you’ll have to see it for yourself.” Mr. Mathers leaned his weight on a cane and stepped away from the stoop, giving her room to follow.

 A voice inside told her not to go but she felt it wasn’t because she was in danger. There was another reason Mr. Mathers could come calling so late. She pulled her long coat down from the rack and put it on. He smiled weakly and nodded.

“We must hurry.” He muttered and beckoned to his cart.

Miss Gertrude followed him willingly, closing the door behind her as she left.

***

Ayer moaned softly as Gaspar pushed a pair of his fingers into him, teasing a sensitive spot within. The older rat kissed his lower belly, nuzzling the tangle of pubic fur still soaked with his saliva. Each welcoming noise his ward made caused a ripple through him. He pulled his fingers back and pushed them in, this time a little faster, taking pleasure in the way the young buck’s perfect pecker bounced and drip it’s pre-cum down on his belly.

“Does it always,” Ayer breathed in slowly and covered his mouth as he rode the wave of pleasure all the way through. “Feel this good.” He sighed out.

“As long as your partner is caring and gentle, then yes.”

Gaspar licked the slicked pool gathering above the lad’s belly button before bobbing once more on the lad’s cock. The sound of Ayer’s gasp pricked Gaspar’s ears excitedly.

The young buck was ready, Gaspar could tell just by his sounds. The old rat pulled his fingers out and shifted to his knees between Ayer’s legs. The young buck didn’t move. He just looked up at his master trustingly. His mind lost in a haze of pleasure that washed through him. It felt better than he ever imagined. If this is how it could be, maybe the three of them could be together, it would be a life worth living.

The older buck shifted Ayer’s legs up so his rounded ass was closer. Gaspar was quick to spit into his paw and give himself a slow lathering rub, another spit for the comfort of the lad. The anticipation pushed the young buck to squirm and now the wait was over. Gaspar moaned as he slowly lowered himself into the young buck just enough to tease the depth.

Ayer’s gasp came out as a cry, more from surprise than pain. Gaspar knew that feeling all too well, it had happened to him his first time. The black and white rat soothed him with a slow caress along the underside of Ayer’s hard dick. Letting his fingers feel his heartbeat through the taut flesh.

“It’ll hurt for only a few second, try to stay relaxed.” He cooed.

Ayer nodded and whimpered as he fought to control his breathing. Eventually he relaxed his body to this new sensation. He only flexing the first few thrusts, after that, the feeling of pleasure took over and eased his body into his master’s mating. Ayer barely noticed the old rat picking up the pace. It wasn’t until he went deeper that the tingling mixture of pain and pleasure brought him back.

“Oh Gaspar-” He whispered and Gaspar stole the words from his lips with a kiss.

***

The city was dark and dead at this hour of the morning. There was not another rat out except for Miss Gertrude and Mr. Mathers. He was quick to pull the cart closer to the side of the road as they neared a familiar part of town. The cart came to an abrupt stop almost pitching Miss Gertrude over the front seat.

“Being out this late is madness, Geoffrey. Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” Miss Gertrude scurried to get to her feet before dropped down out of the back of the cart.

When she rounded it, Mr. Mathers met her beside the road. He slowly removed his hat and pressed it to his chest modestly.

“You won’t believe me, unless you see it for yourself.”

Miss Gertrude got on her tiptoes to grab his collar and pull him closer. “No more games, tell me!”

“Look.”

Mr. Mathers pointed to a large mass lying on the ground next to the crack in the wall. A large pool of black surrounded it. When Miss Gertrude drew closer she noticed the black pool had a color. Crimson, like a thick wine drained from a barrel. It was then that she noticed that the large mass was a large, though nothing remained on his neck stump. The head lay a few feet away near the gutter drain. She fell back, gripping her chest at the sight. Mr. Mather’s was quick to grab her before she fell. She tried to scream but nothing came out. Mr. Mathers wrapped an arm around her to comfort her.

“Who?” She whispered but that’s all she could manage to get out.

“It gets worse, ma’am.” Mr. Mathers took her paw and led her passed the dead body to the crack in the wall.

***

Gaspar’s knees ached from kneeling on the tile floor but it was pain he could ignore in lieu of focusing on Ayer’s slowly thrusting. He reached back and took the blonde rat’s paw that gripped his hips. He pulled at the paw to coax a harder thrust from him, letting him know that he can take it. It worked to bring a desperate moan from the boy’s lips.

“It feels good,” Gaspar whispered; his voice lost in his dreamy state.

“So good, Gaspar,” Ayer panted as he pulled out, trying to keep his focus though his whole body shook like a blade of grass in a windstorm.

“Please, call me sir.”

Gasper looked back over his shoulder to see Ayer’s eyes shut tight as he was trying to remain in control. There was a tingle of pleasure in knowing that he was about the break the boy’s illusion that he was ever in control over this situation.

 “Oh sir,” Ayer whimpered and gave another quivering thrust.

“That’s right, my boy…you’re doing beautifully.” He pushed back against the younger buck’s thrust and grinded.

Ayer’s eyes snapped open as he gasped and dug his claws in the Gaspar’s hips. “Oh god, I’m going to…hmm.”

Gaspar smiled devilishly and slammed back against the young buck, rewarded by the sloppy pounding of Ayer’s orgasm. The desperately inconsistent humps were one of his favorite parts of training the young and unskilled bucks. It was beautiful to feel Ayer’s body forced to be milked under the throes of his uncontrolled orgasm.

When Ayer was done, Gaspar sat back on the lad’s lap, driving him as deeply as he could go. This time it was Gaspar’s turn to moan at the feeling of having him so close. Ayer wrapped his arms around the older rat’s waist and buried his face between his shoulder blades.

“That’s my good boy.” He whispered and felt Ayer’s lips kiss up his spine.

***

The inside of the Ruby Rose was nothing short of a nightmare. Miss Gertrude had lost her balance and clung to the counter just to keep from falling over. Her throat burned from throwing up and she was so dizzy she couldn’t remember how many times she had. Mr. Mathers stood unmoved by the scene as if he was deadened to it.

Patricia, the sandy blonde mouse that Miss Gertrude had only met a few times, lay face down behind the counter in a pool of her own blood. There was a white doe that Miss Gertrude had never seen before, lying amidst the pillowed against the back wall; blood seeped from a large wound in the side of her head. Another doe, black as midnight lay in the doorway, obviously she’s tried to escape but her attempt was in vain.

Lastly, the doe known as Lyrica lay in the center of the floor. Miss Gertrude had never met her, but knew her by sight and smell because of Ayer’s rants. Her throat was slit and her guts spilled from a gash in her belly. Miss Gertrude couldn’t help but think she were beautiful, even amidst the brutality. It was easy to see how Ayer was taken in by her. Lyrica was more beautiful than any other doe she’d seen before. Unfortunately, it didn’t matter now. Someone had taken her life and robbed the world of her presence.

“Why did you bring me here?” Tears ran down her face, her voice scratchy from vomiting and crying.

“You have to know the truth.” Mr. Mathers raised the cane that he carried.

In gold letters by the crook were familiar initials. “Gaspar did this.”

Mr. Mather’s too the crook in paw and pulled. Inside was blade crusted with blood from the deed the old rat had done. Miss Gertrude shook her head and started backing away towards the door.

“What, no. This is all a lie.”

Mr. Mathers stepped towards her. “I wanted you and Ayer to know what kind of a monster he is. I wanted to warn you so you could get away from him before it’s too late.”

“Please god, no.” Miss Gertrude started sobbing.

“This is the only way I can atone for what I’ve done.” Mr. Mathers rested his hand on her shoulder. “He made me do such terrible things for him; unspeakable things that I could never make up for but maybe if I could save you both then there’s some chance of redemption for me.”


	11. We Were Scoundrels, All

There were muscles all over Ayer’s body that ached that he wasn’t even sure he had. Thankfully, Gaspar was kind enough to help him sit in the cool water of the tub. The young buck sighed as he lay back against the edge of the tub. Gaspar placed a rolled up towel behind his head for added comfort. He kissed Ayer deeply, drawing a soft moan from the lad’s throat.

He pulled away and bumped the young rat’s chin with his nose. “You relax for a while and when you get cleaned up, come and join me in my bedroom.”

“I will.” Ayer took Gaspar’s paw in his and kissed it.

Gaspar sighed and stared at the lad for a long moment before carefully gathering his soiled clothes from the floor on his way out of the room. He turned to smile at Ayer, lying lazily in the tub.

“I love you,” The old rat’s voice was soft and sweet.

Ayer kept his eyes closed as he sighed out. “Me too.”

Gaspar stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him. His heart fluttered in his chest, making him feel young again. Ayer’s warm welcome had been an unexpected surprise, though now it left him at an odd junction. What was he going to do about the Ayer clone that he left in his bedroom?

He hurried towards the door and was quick to unlock it. He felt Toby’s key still resting in the lock on the other side but with enough force he managed to push it out and unlocked the door. The clank on the other side did little to drown out a familiar sound coming from elsewhere in the house.

Voices, they were definitely voices. Wait, he thought, they’re not inside the house but they were coming closer. Gaspar recognized one the voice immediately and hurried to the front door. It was Miss Gertrude and Mr. Mathers out and about at this time of the morning. Something was up; Gaspar could feel it in his bones. Play it cool, old boy, he steeled himself and opened the door, stepping down from the stoop.

“Mathers, what are you doing out at such an early hour and with our Miss Gertrude no less?”

Both Miss Gertrude and Mr. Mathers jolted at his sudden approach. They both looked disheveled and out of sorts. It wasn’t until Gaspar saw his cane sword clutched in the larger rat’s paw that it all came together in his mind. He didn’t have to be a master tactician to sniff out a betrayal. It was only a matter of time before Mathers’ lost his nerve in the first place.

“Are you telling tales out of school, Mathers? I knew you were too stupid to keep around.” Gaspar tipped his hand; his demeanor changing now, as if he’d been wearing a mask all along.

“But you, Miss Gertrude, I thought you were smarter than that. Hanging out with such a shady character as Mr. Mathers at this hour, what would the other rats think of you.”

“You’ll never get-”

“Oh please, this isn’t some fanciful murder mystery, Mathers, don’t be so dramatic.” Gaspar pulled a flintlock pistol from the bundle of clothes he carried.

Miss Gertrude stifled a scream and fell back into the larger rat that was backing away. Gaspar eased back the hammer and pointed it directly at Mr. Mathers’ chest.

“Come, perhaps we should have a word in the alleyway.” Gaspar flicked the barrel of the pistol towards the side of the building.

Miss Gertrude nodded and followed her master’s orders as she was so prone to do in the past. Mr. Mathers wasn’t up for a fight either. Odds were clearly stacked in Gaspar’s favor. He followed behind her like two sheep being led to slaughter.

Once they were all in the alleyway, they turned and looked at Gaspar, who stuffed his soiled clothes in the waste barrel under the water drainage spout.

“You monster,” Miss Gertrude hissed, her paws clenched tightly. “You murdered them…you murdered my family. You murder Ayer’s family. Why? What do you have to gain from this?”

“Just spilled all your guts; didn’t you, Geoffrey.” Gaspar scoffed. “Cats out of the bag, I suppose. I did, I killed them all. I don’t suppose it would help my case if I told you they had it coming?” Gaspar looked from Mr. Mathers to the auburn doe, whose eyes were filling with tears at the true confession.

 “Besides the drinking, my father was a good rat. What did he ever do to you?” Miss Gertrude was slowly losing her fight against the swelling tears.

“Oh, Mathers, you have such a big mouth but you failed to tell her the whole story, didn’t you?” Gaspar turned the pistol on him.

“I know how much you like the sound of your own voice, so I was going to leave it for you to tell her.” Mr. Mathers grunted, his courage failing under steely glare of pistol’s barrel.

“Geoffrey, I’m surprised at you. You finally found your balls after all these years. I haven’t seen them since our Liner days, both literately and figuratively.” The charming banter in the old rat’s voice caused Miss Gertrude’s stomach to churn.

“Yes, well, now that my mum’s passed away. I don’t need your money anymore to help keep her healthy. I’m done being your lackey.” Mr. Mathers flexed beneath his dingy long coat, gauging the chances he had to grab for the pistol.

“Your mother passed away, you have my most sincere condolences but,” Gaspar knew what the large rat was attempting to do and if he were being so brazen then it was time to put this old dog down for good.

The loud crack of the pistol rang out in the alleyway. The ball tore a hole in Mr. Mathers’ head, spattering the wall behind him. “At least you and your mom can bore each other in hell together now.”

Miss Gertrude screamed and fell back on the cold hard ground, watching as the large rat’s lifeless body slumped against their house, dead. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she struggled to find the strength to crawl away.

“Why?” Miss Gertrude’s voice died in her throat. She fought to get to her feet but fell again.

“You know,” Gaspar looked at the pistol before tossing it to the ground. “These flintlock pistols are shit. They’re just not as reliable as steel.” He bent down and collected his cane sword before the growing puddle of blood reached it.

“Why are you doing this?” The auburn mouse screamed at him through her sobs.

“Why, why, why; gods, I’m tired of hearing already. My sweet Gertrude, I loved you like you were my own daughter. You can’t know how terrible I feel you found out about all of this.” He frowned and knelt down next to her.

“If you ever loved me, then you need to tell me why?” Miss Gertrude started panting heavily; her heart racing in her chest.

“I suppose I owe you that much.”

Slowly, he reached down into the hem of his pant leg and pulled out a small folded piece of parchment. It was old and fraying at the edges. She was sure it was going to fall apart the moment he started unfolding it. When he turned it to face her, she saw a perfect pen drawing of five rats in military uniform. All young and virial, they had hungry eyes and hungrier smiles.

Her father, she recognized first. Even with his young brass look, all of his features were mirrored in her face. He was smiling and enjoying a pipe. The exact pipe that she’d kept in her underwear drawer to remember his smell. Next to him, there was no mistaking the black and white buck. Those eyes and eyebrows were as mischievous back then as they were now.

Mr. Mathers hadn’t changed in the slightest since those days, still larger than every other rat in the picture. He had an easy smile and soft eyes but his thick jaw made him look fiercer than he was. It made Miss Gertrude sad to see him now that she knew he was dead and gone. Another tall handsome rat was leaning against Mr. Mathers. He held a mug and looked affectionately at young Gaspar. Yet, young Gaspar’s gaze was held by another. A young rat that looked just like Ayer right down to smaller stature.

“Miss Gertrude, please meet Le Linge Noire,” He whispered fondly, before holding the picture so they both could see. “That was us, do you see them?”

Gaspar pointed to each of them and whispered their names. “That handsome rat right there, that’s Jean-Luc. He was our leader, a beautiful buck who knew how to treat men on those cold nights in the trenches, especially me. So soft and tender with, he was my first love but certainly not my last.”

“What happened to him?” Miss Gertrude was almost afraid to ask.

“A cat took him from me all too soon, I’m afraid.” Gaspar felt his eyes growing misty; he was quick to shake the wave of emotion away before it took him. “I bet you recognize that handsome devil right there. Wasn’t I just to die for?”

Miss Gertrude didn’t say anything; she just stared at the picture in terror.

“Oh, you used to think so? Oh well, moving on then. This young buck, you also know. That’s your father, he was such a looker and charming too. He was leagues better than your whore mother deserved. I’m not the only one who thought so, we all did. Then there’s Geoffrey, but you knew that already. This was when he had more brains about him, though I suppose he always had more brains than he does now.” Gaspar snickered.

Miss Gertrude started crying and shook her head.

“Not funny? Oh…everyone’s a critic.” He pointed at the last rat on the drawing.

“And of course, there’s Remy. Does this young buck look familiar at all?” Gaspar paused, knowing that she wasn’t going to respond. “That’s Ayer’s father and the biggest offender of them all.”

“You killed your closest friends, what kind of a monster are you?”

“We’ve established this already.” Gaspar gripped Miss Gertrude by the throat and pulled her up onto her hind paws. “All I did was give them what they deserved, no more, no less.”

Miss Gertrude squirmed but couldn’t escape his strong grip. The feeling of the air leaving her caused panic to spike in the back of her head.

“They told me that they loved me, that I was the only one that mattered to them. Each one of them taking turn on me like I was a bottle of wine to be passed around. It was the closest thing to a family I had, the closest thing to love I’d ever known.” Gaspar whispered sharply in her ear.

“And you know what they did? When they were done with me, they left me all alone.” Gaspar squeezed her throat causing her to cough hard against the pressure. “That’s right, as soon as the war was over, the Liners were disbanded. Suddenly they were all too busy for little old me.”

Gertrude fought to breath. She clawed viciously at his paw to get away but she couldn’t get him to let go, no matter how much of his flesh she tore.

“Your father, he married that whore from the tavern just because he knocked her up with you. Geoffrey had to tend to his mummy all the time. Some form of Oedipus attraction, no doubt. But Remy, he was different. He came to me after Jean-Luc died. He comforted me, made me feel good again. We kiss and held each other all through the night. He told me he loved me and for the first time, I believe it. I never knew a love like that could exist. When the war ended, he told me he would always love me. Then his whore came to call and took him from me.” Tears filled Gaspar’s eyes; his teeth clenched.

“Oh but my revenge was sweet.” He chided. “I took you and Ayer from them and raised you as my own. You gave me the things they’d denied me. You were all so sweet to me, so giving, so receiving.” He whispered sensually against the crest of her.

Miss Gertrude was starting to black out, her arms fell to her sides and the fight had all but fled her now.

“I’ve lost you which is one of my deepest regrets. At least now, Ayer is all mine and we’re going to be together forever.”

With these last words, Miss Gertrude closed her eyes and was lost to the blackness. Gaspar dropped her body to the ground and she fell limply on top of Mr. Mathers. She was gone to this world and he quietly hoped that she would find a better horizon than this one. Tears took him as he looked at her cold face. He loved her and truly regretted this end for her but he couldn’t let her live for risk that she would warn Ayer.

“Goodbye, my sweet baby girl.” He whispered before getting to his hind paws. “I love you.”

Gaspar started back down the alley towards the front door. He had one more piece of unpleasant business to attend too and then he and Ayer could be together forever.


	12. A Gentleman and His Honor

Ayer stepped out of the bathroom, there was a cool chill that gave him pause as he finished tightening the string around his waist. There was a new type of soreness that rolled through him when he moved. Just a soreness to remind him of the love he’d shared with the charming rat. The words, ‘I love you’ said in Gaspar’s sweetest tone still echoed in his ears. A lax smiled crawled onto his lips as he started down the hall. He’d have to sit down and have a chat with Miss Gertrude and Gaspar about the possibilities that lay before them.

Keeping as quietly as he could, he crept down to Gaspar’s bedroom and sidled in. The room was quiet and still. Surfaces were covered with glasses stained with wine and old crumbs littering the floor. Gaspar must have been the bumps in the night that Miss Gertrude heard. It was just him fumbling around in the darkness trying to find food. The dark green curtains on Gaspar’s large four-post bed were drawn to keep the flickering light of the oil lamp out. Ayer could hear the buck’s breathing from within.

“Sorry it took so long, I fell asleep in the bathtub.” Ayer followed it up with a playful chuckle.

“Who’s…?”

Ayer’s heart jumped into his chest when he heard his own voice calling from within the drawn curtains. Fear webbed through him and he stumbled back against the wall. His head hit the carved wooden paneling and caused a rippling throb through the back of his head. The pain told him he wasn’t dreaming. A figure crawled out from within the curtains, naked and scared. He was young and small, almost Ayer’s age.

When the rippling behind Ayer’s vision cleared, he loosed a scream and clutched his chest. It was like looking in a mirror but his reflection was more gaunt and scarred. His right eye was surrounded by poorly dyed patch of fur that caused bumps on the skin to bubble up through the fur. The eye itself was swollen shut, dripping and festering with infection. There was a bare patch of fur on his neck with a freshly stitched incision to the left of his esophagus. It was swollen and red.

“You’re him!” The figure squelched as he touched the furless spot on his neck.

“Who are you?” Ayer’s voice trembled; the fear that throbbed through him almost had him in tears.

 “I’m Toby,” There was an odd excitement behind his squelching voice that descended into incoherent fear. “No, I’m Ayer, or…I don’t even know any more.”

The figure stumbled towards Ayer and reached for him. He tried to back away but only managed to smash himself tighter against the wall. His heart was threatening to tear out of his chest. Then somewhere outside he heard a loud clack that sounded like a pistol going off. Ayer bolted but ran right into the arms of the other rat.

“No, please don’t hurt me.” The young rat cried as he fell back onto the bed with Ayer stumbling on top him.

“Oh gods…what happen to you?” Ayer shook his head, feverishly wishing he could wake up from this nightmare.

Then, for a brief moment there was clarity in the rat’s one good eye. He closed his paws around Ayer’s throat and pushed with an otherworldly might. Ayer’s back slammed hard against the wooden molding on the wall. The force shuttered his teeth and rattled his bones. The rat was close now, locked in an intense internal battle for control of who he was.

“He wanted you! He tortured me to look like you.” The squelching strain in his voice made him sound like a dying cat.

After a moment of silence, softness came back into the disheveled rat’s eye and pressed a shaky paw to Ayer face. “No, I’m Toby and I’m a good lad who only wanted to help his momma.”

Ayer couldn’t tell what was going on but the rolling sickness in his stomach was about to overflow.

“My name is Toby and sir,” He paused and shook his head. “No, Gaspar…that’s his name and before he disappeared, he paid to have my voice butchered because I couldn’t sound enough like you. He dyed my face because the spot made me ugly. But how can I be ugly if I look like you and he wants you?”

Ayer gripped the rat’s paws and tried to pull them away from his throat but the rat only squeezed hard.

“Ayer, run, he’s a monster! You have to getaway. I-I have to getaway.”

Toby released the young buck’s throat and fumbled away. Ayer gasped and coughed a few times and reached for the naked rat as he tore off out of the room.

Ayer heard a guttural moan come from somewhere beyond the darkness of the door frame. The moaning got louder as the rat backed into the room a sword punched through his stomach and out his back. It dripped heavy rivulets of blood in a line across the floor.

Toby’s face was pressed against Gaspar’s chest but his eyes pleaded with Ayer, not for help, Toby knew it was too late for him, but he wanted Ayer to run before it was too late.

Gaspar put his paw on the young buck’s shoulder and pushed him away slowly. Their eyes met and Gaspar gave him one last look of disappointment and disgust that he had for false Ayer. Then Toby fell to the floor without another sound, his suffering had ended but Ayer’s had just begun.

“Can no one keep their damn mouths shut tonight?” Gaspar grunted, there was a gleam of lunacy in his eyes.

Ayer’s heart jolted in his chest, forcing him to run. He darted towards the hallway, shouldering Gaspar hard against the wall with a grunt.

“Ayer,” Gaspar scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Come back so we can talk this out.” Wearily the old rat turned towards the hall and followed his ward.

Gaspar’s heart ached for the inevitability that was about to befall him. He didn’t want to kill Ayer; he was madly in love with him. He longed to hear the young buck call him ‘sir’ respectfully as his father had back in the day. To wake up in the morning to the feel Ayer’s soft body snug and warm as the cuddled the lazy hours away. Tears welled in the old rat’s eyes as he knew what must be done, no matter how much he didn’t want to do it.

“Ayer, don’t do this. I’ve hunted and killed rats far more clever than you.” Gaspar called; his voice raggedy with his heartbreak.

Ayer ran for the front door but hearing Gaspar voice caused him to stumble, cracking his shoulder on the wall. He heard Gaspar’s chiding voice behind him, gaining on him, forcing him to move. The young buck’s heart hammered against his chest making it hard for him to catch his breath. Running wasn’t an option now; he had to hide. He veered hard to find a place to hide until the way was clear for him to make his escape.

Ayer ducked into the training room, his first thought was on the window at the back wall. He immediately ran to it. The latch was oiled and well used; it slid away easily as he pushed the window open. The cold night air was like a kiss from the gods. If he just hurried, he could make it, he was going to make it, he told himself. That changed when he looked out the window down to the street below.

It wasn’t a death drop by any stretch of the imagination but it was far enough to break an ankle if he landed wrong and if that happened, Gaspar would have him for sure. Still, he could just stand there and wait to be caught.

When he lifted his leg out the window to feel around for the ledge to stand on, he heard a slow rolling chuckle coming from behind. It wasn’t menacing. It was more of a sweet familiarity, a mix between lovers’ afterglow giggles and a shared sentimental story between old friends. Ayer lowered his leg and turned around to face Gaspar. A ghastly red streak of blood from Toby, splattered his chest, belly, and soaked into the hem of his pants caused Ayer to gasp anew.

“My beautiful baby boy…perhaps we can sit down and discuss this rationally, please, I don’t want to kill you too.” Gaspar pleas were genuine, his eyes softened as he slowly reached to the one he loved.

“Miss Gertrude!” Ayer cried out, his voice failing.

“I’m afraid your cries fall on dead…sorry, deaf ears.” Gaspar chuckled and shook his head. “Terrible joke, sorry, it’s not my finest work. I’m out of sort tonight.”

“You killed her?”

“I had too; she was going to spill all my little secrets before I had a chance to tell you myself. Just like a doe to talk too much, am I right? I had a conversation with Patricia and Lyrica about the way they treated you and they were much more reasonable with how much they talked.” Gaspar smirked and took another step closer; his sword tip was angling upward.

“You killed them too?” A fresh wave of tears filled Ayer’s eyes as he fought to wipe them away. “And now you’re going to kill me?”

“I don’t want to, you have to believe me. I want us to live in this kingdom together forever.” Gaspar’s voice spiked and drove Ayer back against the windowsill.

“Are-Are you crazy?”

“I want you to fulfill the promise your father made me back during the war. It was to be him and me against the world and he would love me forever.” Gaspar’s voice cracked under the weight of his own emotions. “You’re the last one…my only hope for true love.”

“What?” Ayer spit. “My father would never love a monster like you.”

“Unkind, Ayer, very unkind.” Gaspar took another step closer; he was halfway to reaching the lad now and closing.

Ayer was running out of time, he had to do something. That was when he saw the fencing foils hanging on the rack against the back wall. The balls at the end would prevent him from causing any permanent harm but maybe it would buy him enough time to get away.

“I suppose you killed my father too, didn’t you?” Ayer started sidling towards the weapons.

“Well, yeah but I’m don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s just go back to the way things were. The way they were in the bathroom earlier. Over time and with enough wine we can forget about all of this and just be happy.” Gaspar lurched forward, reaching for the young buck.

Ayer grabbed one of the fencing swords and swung it as hard as he could. The foil made a wicked whipping sound followed by a harsh snap. The ball on the end slapped Gaspar across the cheek, the hit caused him to fumble back a few steps.

“Goddammit, Ayer!” Gaspar gripped the swollen indent on his cheek and growled. “We can’t have a loving relationship if we keep hurting each other like this.”

Gaspar parried another attack and dragged his blade across Ayer’s exposed forearm. It tore the flesh and fur away easily causing him to drop his foil and back away. The young buck cradled his arm to his belly. The cut wasn’t too deep but it bled well. Blood dripped from between his fingers and soaked the fur of his belly down the front of him.

Gaspar gripped covered his mouth when he saw the amount of blood seeping from Ayer’s wound. The corners of his mouth turned down and tears filled his eyes. Regret immediately started consuming him.

“Oh…baby boy, I’m so sorry. Come here, let me kiss it and make it better.” Gaspar reached for him.

“Stay away from me!” Ayer ran to the window and started out onto the ledge again. “I’d rather die than have you touch me again, you filthy monster.”

“I’ve done some terrible things in my life all because I just wanted to feel loved. Doesn’t everyone deserve that?” Tear ran down the old rat’s face. “Why does that make me a monster? Please, Ayer, tell me, why were they allowed to hurt me and walk away to live happy lives while I slowly died inside, cold and alone?”

Their eyes met and for a brief moment, Ayer could feel his pain and suddenly felt sorry for him. Even with Gaspar’s honor smeared with too much blood to ever be trustworthy again, there was a gentleman in there somewhere just aching to be free once more.

“No, Gaspar, they didn’t cause you to do these terrible things.” Ayer whispered. “You did them yourself and only have yourself to blame.”

“Ayer no, please don’t make me do this.”

“I’m not making you do anything.” Ayer stood tall in the face of his hunter to whatever end awaited him. It was no longer up to him.

“Goddammit, Ayer.” Gaspar cried as he raised his sword, thrusting the blade towards Ayer’s heart.

A loud clack filled the room with a flash and the smell of burning embers. Ayer fell to the ground out of fright and looked up at Gaspar who stumbled a few steps towards him. He looked down at the blood seeping from somewhere beneath his fur. His eyes were wide with terror as if he were seeing something from beyond this world that he was scared of. He fell to his knees in front of Ayer and looked down at him.

“I-I loved…” He pressed a bloodied paw to the young buck’s cheek before falling onto his side staring up at Ayer with unseeing eyes.

Ayer looked up towards the flintlock pistol that freed him from his inevitability. Miss Gertrude stood there with the pistol in her shaky paw, a wisp of smoke wafting from the barrel. Tears racked her body and the weight of it had become too cumbersome to hold. The pistol slipped from her fingers and clacked loudly against the wicker padding on the floor.

“Ayer?” She cried and fell to her knees.

Ayer crawled across the floor and wrapped his arms around her with such force that she fell back and pulled him down on top of her. He pressed his face to her neck and muttered something incoherent against his building wave of emotions. Then they both started sobbing and clinging to each other as if it was the only thing keeping them from fading from this existence.

***

The carriage rattled and shifted along the uneven stretch of path. The weasels pulling it had been very excited with the large tip that Miss Gertrude gave them and were gracious enough to keep off the main roads without much of an explanation.

Ayer rested against the wooden wall of the carriage. He’d not spoken much in the three days since the incident. He poured over everything that happened and everything the auburn rat had told him about. There was just too much to process all at once.

The blonde rat looked at the hatched bandage around his forearm. The black stitching beneath was taut and messy but Miss Gertrude did what she could in her haste to flee the house. It itched now, as wounds do when they start healing and promised of a scar. He wondered if the wound in his heart would do the same. Still, there were scars that would follow him until the day he died.

As they left, Ayer wanted to see Lyrica one final time before they left but Miss Gertrude insisted that it wouldn’t help him find the closure he wanted. Instead, Miss Gertrude emptied all of Gaspar’s safes of their riches and gathered up every bit of jewelry she could find. Ayer packed a few articles of clothes; just enough to get them to London where their new lives could begin.

On their way out of the house, Miss Gertrude took care to knock over each candle and lantern she came across. Their house was no longer their home and there was nothing left for them there anymore. Once they left, there would be no going back. They stepped down off the stoop and she pulled the door closed on that part of their life.

Ayer remembered her being stoic and strong in spite of his sobbing weaknesses. But if the question were asked of Miss Gertrude, it would be a very different answer. She made sure to weep in the late hours of the night when their sex or the wine lured Ayer into a deep sleep.

On the outside, it was left to her to be strong for his sake. She’d had much longer to deal with the death of her parents and the loss of everything she held dear. She’d even had a longer time to know the rat she believed friend and family; therein lay the doubled edge sword. The tears she shed for the family long gone had all but dried up. Now, she lost a father, a lover, and a friend all at once and not just because she took his life but because he was not the rat she thought he was. The Gaspar she loved never existed and that alone shook her very core more than anything that had ever happened in her life. Now she was stuck with a black hole in her heart that smelled of lemon oil and cigarettes. An easy laugh and a loving touch that was nothing more than a devil’s incarnation and an infected memory.

Ayer took her paw and startled her away from the dark thoughts that threatened to swallow her whole. She looked up at him and for the first time in days, he smiled at her. A youthful glow filled his sweet blue eyes. It brought warmth to her frigid life and was as infectious as his laugh. She smiled back and lifted his paw to her lips.

“Thank you.”

Ayer cocked his head, his smile falling slightly. “For what?”

“Just for being here with me.” She pushed her nose to the back of his paw fighting the swell of emotions building inside of her.

“What’s family for.” He whispered and pulled her into a warm hug, quietly promising to never let her go.


End file.
